Gelida--Remastered
by MissLindaLee
Summary: Linda plans to enjoy her first Christmas on Earth, even with the emergence of a new power. When a metahuman with pyrokinetic abilities heats things up in the leafy little hamlet, Linda learns firsthand what really happens when fire and ice collide. (Eighth story in the remastered Angelica Corsusca series)
1. Chapter 1

Snow fell from the night sky, glistening in the soft light from the lampposts; flakes landed on the large Christmas wreaths hung under the glass bulbs. Stores along Main Street were decorated with their normal array of lights, tinsel, and other embellishments, but nothing stood out more than the former floral shop next to the Talon. It had been years since the run-down building had been used as anything other than a storage facility, but it had undergone a major renovation in the past three weeks.

The white wood trellis had been completely removed, exposing brick underneath. Light, silvery gray bricks replaced the broken red ones that had been there since the store first opened; the olive green trim had been covered with a fresh coat of lavender paint. Centered over the entrance was 'Picture Perfect' in large, white calligraphy letters, and below, in smaller letters, was 'Art by Linda Kent.' Simple strings of greenery with red ribbons and white lights framed the door, while the windows displayed a few canvas paintings; each consisted of a different Christmas scene in vivid details, but they all had one thing in common: LED lights situated under the canvas, giving an added touch of realism to each painting.

The interior had been completely gutted to the point where no one recognized it anymore. All the items that had once been stored there—or had been part of the original floral shop—had been either thrown away, donated to charity, or sold to the antique store down the street. The floor had been replaced with light maple wood, and the walls and ceiling had been painted a stark white. Matching track lights hung from the ceiling, shining on different paintings hung up on the walls and a few sculptures that had been strategically placed around the gallery; a couple of hardwood benches matching the floor were centered in the middle of the space, placed to allow a person sit and view any of the artworks from their location. Pushed again one wall near the back was a long, old-fashioned butcher block table that had been painted glossy white; arranged on top were displays and racks of handmade earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. A glossy white, waist-high counter stood near the back, with 'Picture Perfect' and 'Art by Linda Kent' on the front in black calligraphy letters completed the interior design.

Linda stood off to one side, leaning slightly against the wall, holding a plastic cup filled with holiday punch. She wore a long, scarlet cable-knit sweater, black leggings, brown riding-style boots, and a Christmasy tartan scarf; her hair had been swept back and held in place with a large rhinestone snowflake hairclip, showing off a pair of clip-on pearl earrings. She watched the crowd of people—consisting of her family and friends—mingling around the gallery, laughing and enjoying each other's company as soft Christmas music played from ceiling speakers, but Linda didn't feel any pressing need to join in the festivities at the moment.

"It's not much of a party if the hostess isn't joining in."

Linda glanced over as Alfred walked over, carrying a tray with empty punch cups on it. "Technically, I'm the guest of honor," she replied, smiling half-heartedly.

"Either way, you don't seem to be enjoying yourself," Alfred replied as he set the tray on the counter.

"It's not that," Linda replied. "I just…," she sighed and shrugged, "I don't know."

"Does this have anything to do with a certain someone being absent?" Alfred suggested.

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Who talked and how much did they tell you?" she asked.

"No one, Miss Kent," Alfred replied honestly. "I was just under the assumption that—as one of your friends—Mister Olsen would have been invited to this party, but I have yet to see him. One could assume he wasn't invited, but judging by the expression on your face, he was and has chosen not to attend."

Linda stiffened a little and blinked back tears. "If Jimmy didn't want to come," she replied, trying to sound composed, "then that's his choice." It had been three weeks since she had last seen or spoken to him, but Linda had been hoping that he would've at least wanted to come to the party and see the gallery before it opened to the public.

"Linda?"

The two looked over as Dick Malverne cautiously approached, looking concerned. He wore an crisp, ice blue suit and matching tie; his hair had been slicked back, and he carried a small wrapped box.

"Well, I have my duties to attend to," Alfred replied, picking up his tray. He nodded to the teenagers before excusing himself and heading into the back room.

"Hey, Dick," Linda replied, smiling as best she could. She hadn't really had a chance to talk to him—or anyone else—since she had holed herself up in the corner, but she needed something to take her mind off Jimmy; she took a deep breath and around. "So, what do you think?"

"I think this place is awesome," Dick replied, smiling.

"You really think so?" Linda asked, relaxing a little.

Dick nodded. "Of course," he answered. "I mean, you're not only doing something you enjoy **and** you're good at, but you've actually turned it into your own business."

"Well, I did have a little help in that department," Linda said, smiling as she completely relaxed.

"True," Dick replied, "but an artist is only as good as their talent—and no amount of money can change that." He gave her his sincerest smile.

Linda smiled, feeling her cheeks growing warm. "Thank you," she replied sincerely.

"Although, I do have to ask about that," Dick said, pointing to a spot on the ceiling over the counter; Linda glanced to where Dick had indicated and slowly grinned.

Hanging down from was a column of six glass spheres of different sizes and colors, separated by different numbers of smaller clear glass spheres; attached at the bottom was a large glass sphere painting a deep, fiery orange-red.

"What about it?" Linda asked.

"What is it?" Dick replied.

In truth, Linda had designed it to be a 'map' of the Rao star system—the large red sphere at the bottom represented Rao, the six colored spheres represented the different planets—including Krypton—in order from inner to outer, and each clear sphere represented a certain Kryptonian measure of distance—but she knew she couldn't tell that to Dick.

"It's just something that reminds me of alignment," Linda replied, which wasn't technically a lie. "It keeps me focused, that's all."

Dick tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to see it from Linda's perspective; after a few seconds, he pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't see it," he replied, "but that's why you're the artist. And, speaking of which," he held up the package in his hands, "Merry Christmas."

"So, is this the mysterious gift everyone kept teasing you about at school today?" Linda asked as she took the offered gift and carefully unwrapped it.

"It's nothing special," Dick replied, shrugging, as he watched Linda lift the top off the small box and peer inside; he smiled a little more as she gasped softly. "So, do you like it?"

Linda stared into the box in awe. Nestled securely in a piece of memory foam was a small, gold brooch in the shape of an artist palette with three gold paintbrushes attached to it; small, faceted gemstones of various colors had been set at the tips of the brushes and on the palette, giving the appearance of different colors of paint.

"Oh, Dick, it's beautiful," she replied softly.

"You really think so?" Dick asked hopefully.

"Of course," Linda replied, smiling, as she reached inside; she stopped suddenly as she noticed the small, glistening green gemstone on the palette, her smile quickly fading.

"What's wrong?" Dick asked, noticing her quick change of expression; he mentally kicked himself. "You hate it, don't you?"

"No," Linda said quickly. She didn't feel sick or anything—not even a twinge—since it was a very small stone, but Linda had had enough experience with kryptonite over the past few months to be extra cautious about **any** green jewels. She saw Dick's disappointed expression, and the young girl racked her brain, trying to come up with some kind of excuse. "I, uh, just…uh, was startled by all the, different, uh, stones; I've never seen them before. Could you tell me what they are?" Dick raised an eyebrow, but Linda just shrugged, smiling sheepishly; she was definitely going to have to come up with better excuses.

"Well," Dick replied slowly, "the jeweler who sold it to me said they're different varieties of aquamarine, sapphire, amethyst, and citrine."

"So, no meteor rocks or anything like that?" Linda asked casually.

"For what I paid for it, I hope not," Dick replied. He stiffened, then winced and sighed. "And you weren't supposed to know that."

Linda's expression softened. "I won't say anything," she replied. She glanced down at the brooch, staring at it for a few seconds before she came to the conclusion that it was harmless; she looked up at Dick, smiling. "Will you put it on for me?"

Dick looked a little surprised, then he slowly glanced over his shoulder at the crowd. He briefly saw everyone watching them before they quickly glanced away, trying to appear interested in other things; Clark and Jonathan stared at him for a couple more seconds before Martha gently elbowed her men and they quickly adverted their gaze. Dick swallowed nervously before slowly looking back at Linda. "You sure that's a wise idea?" he asked.

"They won't kill you," Linda reassured him, smiling. "Not here, anyway; too many witnesses." Dick blanched, and Linda chuckled. "Dick, I'm kidding. You'll be fine, I promise."

Dick didn't look convinced, but he sighed and removed the brooch from the box. He tried not to look nervous as his fingers fumbled a bit with the jewelry, but he managed to pin it securely on the left side of Linda's sweater below her collarbone; he stepped back and glanced down at it, proud that he hadn't poked either of them in the process.

"So, how does it look?" Linda asked hopefully.

Dick opened his mouth as he met her gaze, and he suddenly forgot what he was going to say as he stared at her. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he smiled. "Wonderful," he said.

Linda smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she replied. As she pulled back, their eyes met, and they just stared at each other for a few seconds before Linda cleared her throat nervously and took a step back, tucking some strands of hair behind her ears as her cheeks turned pink.

"Well, it looks like someone's in a better mood."

The two looked over as Mattie walked over with Andy, Buzz, Cutter, Wally, Gar, and Dick Grayson close behind; all were dressed in stylish outfits and appeared to be having a really good time—and Gar's cheeks bulged as he chewed on carrot sticks.

"Sorry, guys," Linda replied, looking sheepish. "I know I haven't exactly been the best person to be around the past few weeks."

"Well, considering all you've had on your plate," Dick Grayson said, "it's understandable."

Linda had finally told both Dick and Gar everything that had happened over the past month—the visions and dreams, the Kryptonian artifact from Dr. Swann, the cave, getting shot, the true reason for her contract with Bruce and Oliver, and even her fight with Jimmy; the young girl smiled gratefully at the Gothamite. "I know," she replied, "but I'm still sorry."

"Okay, enough of the mush," Andy replied, amused. "We got more important things to discuss."

"Such as?" Linda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Such as how you got all this stuff done so quickly," Andy replied as she made her way over to the jewelry display with Mattie close behind; the two admired the various pieces as the rest of the gang followed.

"It's not that hard, really," Linda replied, folding her arms as she stood back with the guys.

"And having superspeed doesn't hurt either," Gar whispered very softly in Linda's ear; the young girl hid a grin but said nothing.

"So, do your friends get a discount?" Mattie asked as she picked up a pair of large, hooped earrings threaded with red, yellow, and orange stones; Andy admired a silver bracelet accented with recycled purple glass beads.

"How about for free?" Linda suggested. Mattie and Andy looked over, surprised.

"I was just kidding," Mattie replied.

"I know," Linda said, "but I'm not."

"Are you sure?" Andy asked.

Linda nodded. "You get a piece of free jewelry, and I get free advertisement when you wear it and people ask where you got it from. It's a win-win for all of us."

"And your bosses won't mind?" Buzz asked, nodding at the two businessmen talking with the Kents.

Linda shook her head. "They may be my bosses," she said, "and they are financially responsible for this place, but one of the stipulations in my contract was that I be allowed to make a lot of the decisions on my own without them interfering too much."

"Smart and savvy," Cutter replied, smiling. "I think someone's finally found her niche."

Linda smiled and shrugged slightly but kept quiet; movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced over at the entrance to the backroom. Instead of seeing Alfred coming out with a tray full of filled glasses, her smile faded when she saw Jimmy standing in the doorway. He wore a black button-down shirt, slacks, and matching tie, his hair stylishly spiked. He had his camera bag slung over one shoulder, and he gripped his camera tightly as he stared right at Linda, his features expressionless.

"Hey, Linda, what do you think of this?" Mattie asked as she held up an intricately-beaded necklace. "Linda?" She looked over and saw Linda staring toward the back room; she and the rest of the group looked over and saw Jimmy standing in the doorway. "Oh." Jimmy finally noticed the rest of Linda's friends were staring at him; he suddenly turned and disappeared into the backroom.

"I'll be right back," Linda said before she brushed past her friends and headed after the young photographer.

(End of Chapter 1)


	2. Chapter 2

The air had a sharper bite to it, and snow fell more thickly than it had been, but it didn't matter to Linda as she hurried out of her building into the alley; she looked around, but Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. Undeterred, the young girl switched to her x-ray vision and quickly swept the area; the brick, insulation, and wirings dissolved, allowing her to see to the street beyond. She quickly spotted Jimmy about a block away, walking briskly down the sidewalk. She watched as he stop next to his car, his car key already in hand; he quickly unlocked the driver side door and opened it.

Linda quickly switched back to her normal vision before she blurred off; in less than a second, she'd stopped on the other side of the partially opened door and put her hand on it, easily shutting it. Jimmy stared at the door, startled and confused, then he looked over and saw Linda staring at him with a look of determination, her hand pressed against the door. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stared over the hood of his car.

"Could you please remove your hand from my car?" he asked, trying to remain calm.

"What, so you can just walk out on me again and continue to ignore me?" Linda retorted.

"I'm just doing what you told me to," Jimmy replied sarcastically.

"I never told you to stay out of my life and ignore me," Linda said.

"Well, you should have," Jimmy snapped.

Linda's expression softened, and she sighed as she slowly removed her hand from the car door. "Why?" she asked gently. "Because you're my best friend, and you said something that really hurt?"

"Yeah," Jimmy answered, his tone softer.

"And, what, you thought that if you kept pushing me away," Linda continued, "I'd say enough is enough?" Jimmy shrugged, but didn't say anything; Linda sighed. "Well, I got some bad news for you, Mister Olsen."

"What's that?" Jimmy asked as he looked over.

"That's not your choice to make," Linda replied. Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows, confused, and Linda shrugged, the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. "I get to decide who's a part of my life, and I have no plans of getting rid of you any time soon."

"Even after I opened my pie hole and stuck my big foot in?" Jimmy asked wryly.

"Even after that," Linda answered. She sighed and put a hand on his arm. "Look, I'll admit what you said really hurt, but I also knew you didn't mean it; I saw the look on your face, and I could tell you knew you'd screwed up."

"So, if you knew that, why did you tell me to go?" Jimmy asked.

"Because I didn't want to say anything that I knew would hurt you in return," Linda answered, "and, trust me, I was very tempted, but I figured some time apart would give us both a chance to cool off." She shook her head and shrugged. "I just didn't think it'd last this long."

"Which we can also blame on my stupidity," Jimmy replied.

"Well, I wasn't exactly making much of an effort to try and contact you," Linda said.

"Because you were kinda getting your gallery together," Jimmy said slowly, confused. "And I actually **did** get your text…and your invitation."

"So, why did you come if you weren't planning on staying?" Linda asked gently; she indicated his camera.

"Because Perry wanted some shots to go with the story Clark's writing for the paper," Jimmy answered.

"Clark never told me he was doing a story on my gallery," Linda replied, furrowing her eyebrows a bit. A few seconds later, the teenagers' expressions changed; Linda shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Clark and I are going to have a little talk later." She sighed as she removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose before putting her glasses back on. "So, if you thought you were here for your job, why did you bolt?"

"Because I didn't think I was welcomed," Jimmy replied. "Your friends didn't seem too fond of me," he tried not to appear too bothered, "especially Malverne."

Linda sighed. "Look," she replied calmly, "they're my friends—including Dick—but they're not you." She pointed to the brooch on her sweater. "When Dick gave this to me a few minutes ago, I almost didn't accept it because I thought the green gems were kryptonite; Dick thought I simply didn't like it. Thankfully, I was able to come up with a believable excuse, but I couldn't tell him the truth; I couldn't with any of my friends."

"What about Grayson and Gar?" Jimmy asked. "You can be honest with them."

"But both of them are members of a world I don't always want to be a part of," Linda answered, "not all the time, anyway. I need someone who can separate themselves from the fantastic and just be…normal." She glanced up at him. "You've been letting me do that ever since we first met," she shrugged, "and now—more than ever—I really don't think I can give that up."

Jimmy stared at her for a few seconds, then he sighed. "So, you don't hate me?" he asked softly.

Linda shook her head. "Not if you don't hate me," she replied.

"Why would I hate you?" Jimmy asked. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I led you on," Linda answered.

Jimmy tilted his head, confused, then it dawned on him; he sighed. "Look, I've been giving that a lot of thought," he said slowly. "You nearly died, and we were both very emotional," he shrugged, "and I was the one who tried to kiss you."

"But I didn't exactly pull away," Linda countered. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Look, Jimmy, before this goes much further, I think we need to both be really honest about…us—and I'll start." She swallowed nervously and mustered her courage; she'd rehearsed this for a couple of weeks, but her stomach still felt a little tense.

"It's safe to say we know how we feel about each other," she continued slowly, "but at this point in time, I really think we should just be friends. There's a lot going on in my life right now—the gallery, the visions, the cave, Dr. Swann's artifact, plus the holiday season—it's a bit overwhelming right now, and I think having a boyfriend would just add to it." She knew it wasn't what Jimmy wanted to hear as she glanced down at her feet. She felt something brush against her and slowly looked up; Jimmy had his hands on her shoulders.

"I understand perfectly," he said, smiling reassuringly.

"Really?" Linda asked, confused. "You're not upset?"

Jimmy shrugged. "No, I get it," he replied. "I really do: you have a lot on your plate, and I want you to deal with that first." Linda looked unconvinced. "Look, if you don't believe me, I'm giving you permission to mind meld me and see for yourself."

"So, you're really okay with this?" Linda asked cautiously.

Jimmy responded by hugging Linda, holding her close. "Of course," he replied softly. He was relieved when he felt Linda wrap her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder; after a few moments, the two pulled apart—and for the first time, it didn't feel the least bit awkward.

"Since you mentioned your visions," Jimmy continued cautiously, "have you had any lately?"

Linda shook her head. "No," she replied, "and no dreams either." She shrugged. "I still don't know what's going on, to be honest, but I'm glad to get a bit of a reprieve."

"Well, I'm sure we'll figure it out," Jimmy reassured her. He glanced down at her brooch and cleared his throat a little. "So, uh, have you told Malverne about this 'just being friends' thing?"

"I have," Linda replied. "Not about the visions and stuff, but I did tell him I needed to focus on the gallery right now."

"How did he react?" Jimmy asked.

Linda shrugged. "I could tell he was a little disappointed," she replied, "but he's being respectful of my request." Jimmy nodded, but didn't say anything as he glanced briefly at the brooch again; Linda recognized the expression on his face; she sighed patiently. "It's just his Christmas present to me, that's all."

"I know," Jimmy replied, trying to sound casual. "It's nice…so, what did you get him?"

"I made him a small watercolor of the Beatles," Linda replied. "I painted everyone a different watercolor, depending on their interests and hobbies." She smiled. "Yours is back in my room whenever you want to pick it up—and I think you're going to really like it."

Jimmy smiled. "I'm sure I will," he said.

"Does this mean you'll come back to the party?" Linda asked hopefully.

Jimmy nodded, smiling. "Yeah," he answered, and Linda's smile widened. "Oh, I did a little digging a couple weeks ago, trying to see if there was anything else connected to Dr. Swann's rice paper."

"You found something?" Linda asked.

Jimmy nodded. "Oh, yeah," he replied, "and I think it's a doozy, too. I left all the stuff in my desk, but I can come by tomorrow; maybe we could get together and make some sense of it."

"How about day after tomorrow?" Linda suggested. "Mom and I are going to be in Central City tomorrow."

Jimmy stopped, surprised. "Really?" he asked.

Linda nodded. "Clark's arranged for me to me Barry Allen tomorrow," she replied.

"Wow," Jimmy replied, knowing exactly what that meant. "How do you feel about that?"

"Cautiously optimistic," Linda answered. "Clark said Barry's looking forward to finally meeting me, but we'll see how it goes."

"Well, if you need any moral support," Jimmy said, "you can always text me—and I'll make sure to answer it this time." Linda smiled gratefully, and the two continued down the sidewalk, unware of a dark figure standing across the street, silently watching them from the shadows.

(End of Chapter 2)


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note ( **Beware of potential spoilers** ): This series will use the actors from CW's Flash series, but there will be changes made to differentiate my stuff from the show: everything in Season 1 happened all the way through, except for the singularity at the end of the season. Ronnie and Caitlin are married, Ronnie is still one half of Firestorm, and there is no Zoom, Jay Garrick, or anything of the multiverse at this time; also, there will be no connection to CW's Arrow, as I'm using the Oliver Queen of Smallville, so no Felicity or Diggle; sorry, guys!)_

* * *

Linda nervously tapped her foot, wringing the fabric on the black wool pea coat slung over her arms, as she stared at her reflection in the elevator doors. She wore a blue hombre sweater over a long-sleeved, collared orange shirt, lemon-yellow jeans, and purple Chuck Taylors. Her hair was styled in a side braid, tied with an emerald-green ribbon, and she had added a pair of red beaded clip-on earrings she had made the night before to complete her ensemble.

"This was a mistake," she said softly.

Martha glanced over at her daughter, confused. "What?"

"I can't do this," Linda replied, looking at her mother. Martha wore a simple coral blouse, jeans, and brown loafers, her tan winter coat slung over one arm; she held a Tupperware container in her hands. "I mean, you look great and normal, and I look like Rainbow Brite. And what if Barry meets me and doesn't like me? I mean, I haven't exactly had a good track record with Clark's friends…and most of them don't seem to think too highly of me, either."

Martha shifted the container and her jacket, tucking it under her left arm; she put her right hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Sweetie," she said, "you're going to be just fine. Clark said Barry's really been wanting to meet you for a while."

"The others **really** wanted to meet me, too," Linda countered, "because most of them thought I was a threat; some still do."

"Yes, but Barry isn't one of them," Martha replied. The elevator dinged softly before the doors opened; the two looked out into the dimly lit circular room. Martha glanced at Linda, who still looked nervous; she put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Come on." The two stepped out as a young man appeared around the bend of a corridor, and Linda reflexively sized him up.

He appeared to be around Clark's age and height, but he wasn't quite as well-built as her cousin—somewhere between lanky and gangly. He wore a navy blue sweater vest over an untucked light blue, button-down, blue jeans, and black sneakers; his brown hair was neatly-styled and his green eyes danced with energy as he grinned at the two women.

"Mrs. Kent," he said as he approached the red-headed woman and hugged her gently. "It's been a long time."

"Hello, Barry," Martha replied, smiling as she used her free arm to hug the young man. "How are you?"

"Not bad," Barry replied as the two separated, "keeping busy, as usual." He eyed the container hopefully. "Oh, please tell me that has your brownies in it. Cisco has been looking forward to them."

Martha held out the container. "So, I can assume you won't be eating them all in one sitting, then" she said, amused.

Barry took the offered gift, shrugging while pretending to look sheepish. He glanced over at Linda, who was trying to appear inconspicuous as she hung back, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as his expression softened into a pleasant smile. "You must be Linda."

"Yeah, that's me," Linda replied quietly, her stomach full of butterflies.

"I like your outfit," Barry said gently, trying not to grin at how nervous she appeared.

"Really?" Linda asked cautiously.

Barry nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "Not too many people can pull of the multi-chromatic look so well."

"Thanks," Linda said slowly, tilting her head slightly; he sounded sincere, but she was still wary.

"Look, I know this is going to sound really stupid," Barry said, "but it's an honor to finally meet you in person."

"Why, because I'm Clark's cousin?" Linda asked, slightly defensive.

"Well, it's cool he's not the last of his kind anymore," Barry replied, unoffended, "but I try not to judge people by their biology. I mean, I've dealt with a lot of people who've gotten some pretty fantastic abilities: some've done good things with them," he shrugged, "and some haven't." He took a deep breath. "Look, I know some members of the League think they know who you are because of where you're from, and I think that's totally unfair."

"Really?" Linda asked, relaxing a little bit.

"Yeah," Barry replied. "I mean, I know most of them have had their abilities all their lives—or have chosen to isolate themselves from having a normal life—so, that they don't really understand what it's like to suddenly go from being normal to…something beyond that."

"But I've always been Kryptonian," Linda said with a slightly bitter tone. "That alone screams 'different.'"

"Well, a human would be different if they traveled to another planet and lived there," Barry countered. Linda didn't look convinced, and he sighed. "Look, you already know how most of the League sees you; you wanna know what I see?"

"What?" Linda asked cautiously.

"I see someone who, despite living in darkness all her life, didn't resign herself to staying in it," Barry answered. "That tells me she has a good heart and more strength in her than any amount of solar energy will ever able to provide."

It didn't take being a telepath to know that Barry was being sincere—more sincere than any adult outside of Linda's family had ever been with her—and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she forced herself to remain composed. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Barry saw her visibly relax and shrugged, smiled. "No problem," he replied. He glanced at Martha, who smiled proudly at him, before looking back at Linda and clasping his hands. "So, uh, what do you want to do? You want a tour of the lab? If you don't, we could go get a Big Belly Burger or something and just hang out."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing the lab," Linda replied, shuffling her feet, looking embarrassed, "and maybe your suit?"

Barry looked a little surprised. "You wanna see the suit?"

Linda shrugged, looking sheepish. "I'm curious," she admitted.

Barry grinned. "I think that can be arranged. In fact, I think Cisco would be more than happy to show it off"

Linda looked confused. "You don't want to show it to me?" she asked.

Barry chuckled. "Cisco is under the impression that since he designed the suit, it's his; the rest of us figure it's easier to just let him live in that delusion." He motioned for the Kents to follow him, and he led them down a curved corridor. After a few moments, they reached the end and walked into a large room. "Linda, Mrs. Kent, welcome to the Cortex."

"Whoa," Linda said slowly as she looked around. The young girl immediately recognized the area as a base of operations, complete with a control center, medical wing, a lab area, and a room with what appeared to be a large treadmill; Linda tilted her head, amused. "So, I guess the local gym's treadmill couldn't keep up, huh?"

"Something like that," Barry answered, smiling as he put the brownie container on the desk; he hung back near the control center with Martha, watching as the teenager explored.

"Thank you, Barry," Martha said quietly.

"Well, I meant every word," Barry replied. "With everything Clark said she's been through, I think it's pretty awesome she doesn't let it define who she is." He sighed, his smile fading a bit. "I just wish some of the others would give her more of a chance. I mean, I understand their concerns, but I just don't agree with how they're handling it."

"I know," Martha replied.

"Speaking of which," Barry said slowly, "how are things going with Bruce and Ollie?"

"Very well, actually," Martha replied. "I mean, I know Bruce still doesn't really trust her, but I do feel better with them keeping an eye on Lex—and Linda's really flourished with having the gallery to focus on." She shrugged. "Honestly, with everything that's been going on lately, I'm thankful Linda has something 'normal' in her life to motivate her."

Barry was sorely tempted to ask how normal it was for a fifteen year old girl to have her own business—and be a millionaire—but he decided against it.

"What about your friends?" Martha asked.

"I promise you, they don't suspect a thing," Barry reassured her. "They both think Linda's just here to look for potential exhibit areas—and I'm playing tour guide since I'm friends with her cousin," Martha opened her mouth, but Barry continued, "and, no, they don't suspect anything about Clark, either."

"Good," Martha replied, "and it has nothing to do with your friends—I know you trust them with your secret—but the less people who know about Linda, the safer she is."

"Trust me, I understand," Barry replied. He glanced over to see Linda had wandered over to the far wall where his suit was stored, staring at it in awe; he joined her. "So, what do you think?"

"Honestly, it's pretty impressive," Linda replied. "You said Cisco designed it?"

"He'd better say that, unless he wants me to be less considerate about the chafing issue on the next one."

The trio looked over as two people entered the Cortex. The first was a young man about Barry's age, about Linda's height, with black, shoulder-length hair and brown eyes; he wore a black t-shirt with a large astronaut print over a long-sleeved blue shirt, jeans, and sneakers; he nibbled on a Twizzlers, looking amused. The woman, also about Barry's age, had long brown hair and brown eyes, and wore a white blouse, black skirt, and matching heels.

Barry simply smiled. "Mrs. Kent, Linda," he said, "meet Cisco Ramone and Caitlin Snow. Cisco, Caitlin, this is Martha Kent, and her daughter, Linda."

"Actually, it's Snow-Raymond," Caitlin corrected with a smile on her face as she held out her hand to Martha. "I just got married about a month ago."

"Congratulations," Martha said, smiling as she shook Caitlin's hand.

"Thank you," Caitlin replied before she looked over at Linda. "So, Barry told us you're an artist."

"Of course she's an artist," Cisco said proudly as he joined Barry and Linda. "She obviously recognizes a masterpiece when she sees it," he eyed her outfit, "and I definitely dig the color scheme." He pursed his lips, lost in thought for a few moments, then he nodded, grinning as he shook his finger. "Yep, from now on, I'm calling you Skittles."

"Uh, thank you?" Linda replied, uncertainly as she slowly glanced at Barry; the speedster looked as if he was trying not to laugh.

"Don't worry," Barry said, trying not to laugh, "Cisco only gives names to things he thinks are pretty cool."

"Damn right," Cisco replied before looking back at the teenager. "So, you want to know what it's made of?"

"I'm assuming a reinforced tri-polymer to make it resistant to the intense, friction-generated heat caused by Barry's immense speed," Linda answered. No one responded, so she glanced around; Barry and Martha looked amused, while Cisco and Caitlin appeared slightly stunned. "What? Am I wrong?"

"No, you're actually right," Cisco replied, impressed, "and please don't take this in a creepy, pervy way, but that was actually pretty hot."

"Cisco, she's fifteen," Caitlin pointed out, giving him a look, "and her mother is here."

"That's why I said 'don't take it in a creepy, pervy way,' Caitlin," Cisco replied, smiling forcibly. "I mean, how many people do you know who are talented artists with both a great fashion sense **and** who know a thing or two about physics." He grinned at the young girl. "Killer comb in my opinion."

Caitlin sighed and shook her head, then glanced at Martha. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Kent," she replied apologetically.

"It's okay," Martha replied, trying not to smile too much.

"So, you wanna know what else I've done with the suit?" Cisco asked.

Linda leaned toward the suit and discreetly lowered her glasses a bit, squinting. Her vision quickly zoomed in, magnifying the several hundred times as she switched to x-ray vision. She scanned the suit and recognized several enhancements, grinning slightly before refocusing back to her normal vision and pushed her glasses back up her nose; it was time to have a little fun. "You know," she said slowly as she stood straight, pretending to look contemplative, "I've read a few things about Barry's exploits, so may I take a few guesses?"

"Go for it," Cisco replied, "but please don't feel too bad if you don't get it right, deal?"

"Deal," Linda replied before staring at the suit. "Well, if it was me, I'd have installed some kind of communication device to keep in constant contact—maybe a mini-camera or earpieces or something like that."

"I've got both, actually," Cisco said proudly. "Mini-cam has live streaming with 1080 pixels built into the chest emblem, and the lighting bolts on the cowl are actually two earpieces; they can be routed through the control center here or to any phone we choose."

"Nice," Linda replied, trying not to smile; she was enjoying this. "And I've noticed that the suit also appears to be form-fitting and articulated for maximum control and movement, and I would assume the material is similar to Kevlar?"

"Not quite as bullet-proof, but yeah," Cisco replied slowly, his smile fading a little.

"Did you put in health sensors," Linda asked, "GPS tracking?"

"Both," Cisco replied, his smile completely gone.

"And, because Barry's power is derived through extreme kinetic movement at the molecular level," Linda continued, "that means he builds up large amounts of heat, which mean extreme cold temperatures is probably one of his weaknesses. And, because I read that there's a meta-human he fights who has a weapon that generates extreme cold temperatures, it would stand to reason that there'd be some kind device in the suit that would counteract that."

"Therma-threading," Cisco said slowly, "and that is creepy accurate. Are you, like, reading my mind or something?"

Linda shrugged, smiling. "Just deductive reasoning," she replied before glancing at Barry; he looked amused, his eyebrows raised. Still grinning, Linda looked at her mother, and her smile faded slightly; Martha smiled at her, but she recognized that 'we're going to talk later, young lady' expression in them. She took a deep breath and glanced back at Cisco, smiling sweetly. "So, what exactly do you guys—" She stopped, her smile fading fast as she suddenly found herself short of breath. She put a hand on her chest as her heart pounded against her sternum.

Barry's smile fade as he quickly approached her. "Linda, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I…can't…breathe," Linda gasped, her eyes wide as her breaths came in short, rapid gasps; she glanced over as Martha hurried over, and she recognized the look of panic in her mother's eyes. "Mom…what's happen—" Before she could finish her sentence, she felt the temperature in her chest suddenly plummet, right before a blast of chilled air shot from her mouth. It struck Barry's suit, instantly covering it and the surrounding wall in a thick layer of ice; the blast lasted a few seconds before suddenly stopping. For what seemed like minutes, everyone just stared, motionless at the ice-covered suit.

"What the frak?" Cisco asked before he slowly glanced down at Linda, stunned. The teenager kept her eyes on the suit, staring at it in disbelief. Her chest still felt as if it were a block of ice, and her entire body shook, a small cloud escaping her lips every time she exhaled.

"That's…ice," Caitlin added, slowly. "She shot ice—from her mouth."

Barry and Martha shared a sideways glance; they knew what had just happened—and what that meant—but there was something more important to worry about.

Martha gently put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Linda?" she asked softly.

"I'm sorry," Linda replied tearfully before she suddenly blurred out of the Cortex, scattering papers in her wake. Caitlin and Cisco stared in shock, while Martha and Barry appeared concerned.

"Barry," Martha said as she looked over at the young man.

Barry recognized the look in the woman's eyes, and he nodded. "I got her," he replied before speeding off, leaving the trio alone.

(End of Chapter 3)


	4. Chapter 4

A streak of yellow zipped through the streets of Central City, blurring easily around people and traffic; he picked up speed, heading in the direction of Smallville. Barry knew that when people were running scared, they will usually go to a place that they feel the safest; for most, it would be their homes, and the speedster guessed that the only place Linda felt safe **was** the Kent Farm. For a few seconds, he saw nothing of his intended target and began to worry that maybe he'd been wrong, but then he saw the multicolored blur rocketing along the asphalt; the speedster accelerated, effortlessly matching the speed of the young girl. He glanced over at Linda and saw the fear in her eyes when she briefly looked at him; Flash motioned for the young girl to stop, but she simply shook her head.

Flash sighed and glanced forward as they blurred around a bend—just in time to see Linda a foot away from running into a cobalt blue Aston Martin heading in their direction. The hero eyes widened briefly before he immediately shifted into hyperspeed and zoomed over to the young girl, easily scooping her up in his arms, and held her securely as he used his momentum to effortlessly launch himself over the vehicle; he landed smoothly on the other side and continued off the road, as the Aston Martin zoomed on, unware of what had nearly happened.

Flash continued running for a few hundred more yards, stopping in the middle of a clearing. Even before coming to a complete halt, Linda was already struggling to get down, practically jumping out of the speedster's arms and turning away from him, hugging herself; Flash heard the sound of soft sniffles and pulled back his cowl, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Just say it," Linda said softly.

"What?" Barry asked.

"I screwed everything up," Linda said as she whirled around, and Barry could see tears in her eyes. "Your friends are going to figure out who I really am, which means my family is going to be furious. Not to mention the League now has more ammunition against me because I wasn't paying attention and almost hit that car and nearly killed someone." She tried to keep her composure, but tears still slipped down her cheeks; she quickly removed her glasses and wiped them away, embarrassed.

Barry heard the frustration and fear in her voice and saw it in her body language: for as much as he knew Linda had adjusted to living on a new planet—having a family, friends, hobbies, and other 'normal' things—Barry could tell Linda still saw herself as an outcast; he sighed sympathetically.

"Screw the League," he said.

Linda slowly looked up at him. "What?" she asked softly.

"You heard me," Barry replied. "Just because they feel the need to nitpick everything you do doesn't mean they have to **know** everything you do."

"But I nearly hurt someone," Linda protested.

"And who hasn't?" Barry countered. "We've all done things we're not proud of—all of us."

"How many people have you hurt?" Linda asked.

Barry just stared at her, caught off guard a little, but he sighed. "Probably more than I know," he replied. He took a deep breath and a couple of cautious steps toward her, relieved she didn't back away. "Look, I can't even begin to imagine how this all feels for you—a new home on a new planet, new people in your life, and new powers popping up at the most inopportune moments."

"I threw a guy into a window once without even trying," Linda said tearfully. "I nearly burned my classroom down when my heat vision came in, I have to be conscious of **everything** so I don't accidentally crush someone or something, I've accidentally altered someone's memories—all within the span of half a year—and I'm not even at full power yet. Add to that the visions I've been having, and it's no wonder the League thinks I'm dangerous."

"'Visions'?" Barry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Linda suddenly realized what she'd said, and she slowly closed her eyes before muttering something softly that Barry recognized as Kryptonese (and probably not a very nice word, either); she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Well, I guess if I've got the noose around my neck," she said with a slightly sarcastic after a few second, "might as well hang myself." She took a ragged breath and simply told Barry everything—from the first vision in the cave, to the other visions, Dr. Swann's artifact, and waking up in the cave after the Flamebird dream; after she finished, she sighed. "Look, could you wait until after Christmas before you tell the League, so I can have at least **one** good memory before everything blows up in my face?"

Barry's heart wrenched a bit when Linda asked that question; the young man couldn't remember a time when he'd seen anyone look that lost. "Does Clark know?" he asked gently.

Linda nodded. "And my parents," she replied, "and Jimmy Olsen, Dick Grayson, and one other friend…but that's it; not even Bruce and Ollie know—yet."

Barry approached her and put his arms on her shoulders. "Then there's nothing that needs to be told," he said.

Linda just stared up at him, debating if he was telling the truth; after a few moments, she knew he was being honest with her—and she all but threw herself at him, hugging him around his midsection, leaning against him, sobbing softly. Barry was a little startled by the teenager's reaction, but his heart went out to the girl; he simply wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry it out. After a few minutes, her sobs subsided, and Barry carefully pulled back, looking down at her.

"Feel better?" he asked.

Linda nodded. "A little," she said, and Barry could see a little more life back in her eyes. "So, I guess we should probably call Clark so he can help me get this under control."

"You know, I could help," Barry offered, "if you'd like."

Linda raised an eyebrow. "You?" she asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Barry replied. "I mean, I know I don't have super-breath myself, but how hard can it be to control it?" He paused, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Wait, it's not like heat vision, is it?"

"No!" Linda said quickly as she turned her head, embarrassed, her cheeks turning redder than Barry's suit. "I mean…I don't think so; I wasn't thinking about…that." She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Okay, we are changing the subject—now."

"Definitely," Barry replied, inwardly sighing with relief; he could only imagine having to explain to Clark about talking about **that** particular subject with his teenage cousin. He glanced with uncertainty at Linda, then took a deep breath. "Okay, then, let's, uh…let's do this."

"Here?" Linda asked.

"Sure, why not?" Barry replied. "It's the middle of nowhere, and if you freeze or knock down anything, it'll be a tree."

"And if I do it strong enough, the entire forest goes down," Linda retorted sweetly, folding her arms.

"Come on, have a little faith in yourself," Barry said as he turned her around to face a large pine tree about fifty feet away. "Now, just take a deep breath, concentrate, and blow."

Linda glanced over her shoulder, amused. "Of all the things for an adult guy to say to a teenage girl," she said, "that was probably **not** the best."

Barry tried to look annoyed, but he still smiled. "Good to see you have a sense of humor," he asked, turning her back around. "Now, relax, focus, take a deep breath, and just let it out."

Linda nodded as she faced the tree, thinking back to every time Clark had helped her to hone a new ability. She closed her eyes and relaxed every muscle in her body, starting with her toes and working her way up. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and consciously narrowed her field of vision until the tree was the only thing she could see. With a determined look on her face, she breathed in through her nose as deep as she could, feeling her lungs expanding; she blew out of her mouth with all her strength, lips pursed as if she were blowing out a candle.

A huge hurricane-like gust of wind shot out from Linda's mouth and slammed into the tree before dissipating. Barry and Linda watched as the tree slowly swayed, creaking loudly, before it leaned one way and the trunk promptly cracked near the base; it landed hard on the ground with a loud sound.

"Uh…wow," Barry said slowly, impressed, staring at the fallen tree; he had seen Superman using his super-breath in action numerous times, but there was still something remarkable about seeing that same ability in a teenage girl. "That's…pretty good. Did you mean to do that?"

"Actually, I was trying to freeze it," Linda replied slowly.

"Oh," Barry simply said, "well…I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Linda asked, folding her arms.

"Not a clue," Barry answered, trying not to look too sheepish, "but is that a really a bad thing?"

Linda smiled. "No," she replied. "To be honest, I love it when Clark teaches me how to do something, but he seems to act a little…."

"Full of himself?" Barry suggested gently.

Linda nodded, looking sheepish. "Please don't tell him I said that."

"I won't, don't worry," Barry replied. "And, just between us, I agree with you—and I think the same about most of the League, too." Linda smiled. "Now, come on, let's see if we can figure this out together, okay?"

* * *

Linda assumed a fighting stance as she stood in the center of the clearing, watching the yellow blur circling her. It had taken Linda a few hours to gain enough mastery over her new power—from controlling the strength, direction, and temperature—to where both Barry and Linda felt satisfied, but Barry could tell the young girl was fidgety and suggested they stay out there and do something he knew she didn't get much of a chance to do in Smallville: really let loose.

"Make your move, Speedy Gonzales!" she challenged, smiling; she had tried to switch to her fastest perception, but even then Barry appeared as a blur. Suddenly, the speedster switched direction, heading right for her. The young girl leapt into the air before Barry made contact, twisting her body as she effortlessly landed on the ground, facing the other direction; Barry skittered to a halt about twenty feet away and turned around to see the young girl smirking at him.

"You're good," Barry replied, smiling.

"Thank you," Linda said, assuming a fighting a stance. "Now, are we going to fight or just run around in circles?"

Barry chuckled, knowing she was being playful; he charged her, fist raised; Linda deftly blocked, returning the fist. The two continued exchanging blocks and punches at super-speed, moving around in a tight circle as snow swirled around them.

After a minute of high-speed sparring and blocking, Barry managed to connect his fist with her face; the young girl was propelled through the air and landed hard, skittering along the ground for thirty feet before stopping near the far edge of the clearing. Eyes wide, he blurred over to her.

"Oh, crap, are you okay?" he asked worriedly. He knew all the ways a body could be disposed—and he was pretty certain Clark would use everyone one of them once he found out Barry had hit his cousin.

"That was awesome," Linda replied, grinning as she stood up.

"So, you're okay?" Barry repeated, slowly. Linda nodded as she brushed the snow from her body. "Man, I am so sorry."

"Not your fault," Linda said. "You were faster than me," she saw Barry's expression and smiled, "and don't worry, I won't tell Clark." Barry looked exponentially relieved, and Linda's smile widened into a playful grin. "Now, eat snow, Mr. Allen." She thrust her hands out, sending out a wave of telekinetic energy; it hit Barry, sending him flying backward, skittering across the length of the clearing; he bumped into a tree, causing the snow on the branches to fall on top of him, forming a big pile.

"I think I'm going to call it 'Scarlet In Snow'," the young girl said, squinting as she framed Barry with her hands, storing what she saw on a mental canvas. She took a step forward toward her friend, but then she was suddenly hit with a concussive blast of fire; the force propelled her back, violently slamming through several trees in the process.

Barry quickly scrambled to his feet and stared at the splintered tree trunks in shock, before glancing skyward as a figure—hands and head engulfed in flames—quickly descended and landed in front of him, staring at him with white, pupil-less eyes.

"Oh, boy," the speedster muttered softly.

(End of Chapter 4)


	5. Chapter 5

"You okay?" the figure asked as the flames around his head dissipated, revealing a young man, about Barry's age and height, with brown hair; he wore a charcoal button-down shirt under a black wool jacket, jeans, and black boots.

" **I** am," Barry replied, trying to catch his breath, "but you're about to **not** be."

The figure looked confused a split second before suddenly flying through the air, tumbling head over heels. Barry looked over as Linda blurred over and stopped nearby; the young girl looked furious as she stared upward.

"You okay?" Linda asked, never taking her eyes from the sky.

"Yeah," Barry replied, "but—"

"He's coming back," Linda interrupted as she assumed a fighting stance.

Barry glanced up as the figure zoomed down toward them, flames trailing from his hands and head. "Look, you don't have to do this," he said to Linda.

Linda jerked her head, glaring at him. "Why, because I'm just a kid?" she snapped.

"No," Barry replied, "because—"

"Look out!" Linda said as the figure suddenly fired a volley right at her. She thrust a hand at Barry, blasting him safely out of the way before holding both her hands out in front of her, putting up a telekinetic shield in front of her; the flames hit the invisible shield and dispersed harmlessly around the two. She smirked as the figure suddenly halted about thirty feet above her, clearly stunned by what she had just done.

"So, you like to play with fire, huh?" Linda asked. "Why don't you cool off a little?" She quickly took a deep breath and blew out as hard as she could. The intense wind hit the figure, extinguishing his flames as he hurtled backward through the air.

Barry slowly sat up and glanced over to see the figure flying through the air. He sighed and quickly got to this feet, blurring off, leaving Linda by herself. The young girl watched him speed off before heading off in the same direction. It took her a few seconds to catch up, but she skittered to a stop about a mile away and tilted her head in confusion; Barry was helping the figure to his feet, talking to him.

"Barry, get away from him!" Linda shouted.

"It's okay," Barry said, stepping in front of the figure, facing the young girl. "Just calm down. He's a friend of mine."

"If he's your friend, then why did he attack me?" Linda asked, tensing.

"He thought **you** were attacking me," Barry said. "He didn't know we were sparring." He could tell Linda looked unconvinced. "Look, there's obviously been a little bit of a misunderstanding."

 _Which is why_ _our next set of lessons should devote more time to looking before leaping, don't you think, Ronald?_

Linda furrowed her eyes as she looked around. "Who said that?" she asked. Barry and the figure just stared at her in silence. For a moment, the teenager was worried she was having another vision—or her super-hearing was kicking in.

"You heard him?" the figure finally spoke up.

"I think I did," Linda answered slowly, uncertain. "Male voice—older gentleman from the sound of it—talking to someone named Ronald; said something about looking before leaping."

"She can hear him," the figure said, stunned, still staring at Linda.

Barry's eyebrows shot up. "She heard him?" he asked.

 _Ronald, I think it's been well established that the whoever this young lady is, she has the ability to hear me while in this form. However, this doesn't change the fact that you and Mister Allen are standing there, gaping like tuna fish at the poor girl without anyone properly introducing us._

"Okay, seriously, who said that?!" Linda asked as she whirled around; from how Barry and the figure had reacted, they knew there was **a** voice (so Linda was grateful she **wasn't** going crazy), but she still had no idea of its origin.

"Oh, of course, it makes sense!" Barry said, looking as if a light bulb went off over his head; he grinned. "Aw, man, this is **so** cool!" Both Linda and the figure just looked at the speedster, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Linda asked, frustrated.

"Dude, I think you better just show her," Barry said to the figure.

The figure nodded before being completely engulfed in flames. Linda tensed as she watched, then her eyes widened as another figure—also engulfed in flames—appeared to grow off the first figure's body; it reminded Linda of mitosis—if the process involved a flaming human instead of a cell. In a instant, the fired died down, and Linda raised an eyebrow in shock, gaping.

Standing next to the first figure was another man, an older gentleman about Barry's height wearing a grey, three-piece suit with a light yellow sweater vest under the jacket; he had white hair, and dark brown eyes covered by a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

"Ah, there we go," the older gentleman said. He smiled as he approached the young girl. "Since neither of these young gentleman appears to have any proper manners," he briefly glanced back at Barry and the other figure with a slight admonishing expression, "allow me to introduce ourselves: that young man next to Mister Allen is Ronald Raymond."

"I prefer 'Ronnie,'" the young man said, slightly annoyed.

The older gentleman sighed. "And my name is Professor Martin Stein," he continued before holding out his hand to the young girl.

Linda just stared at the older gentleman, mouth slightly open. "You just walked out of another human being," she finally said after a few moments of silence; she furrowed her eyebrows. "Wait, you **are** human, right?"

"Quite so, my dear," Stein replied, slightly amused. "Now, seeing how you know all of our names, might we inquire as to yours?"

Linda glanced at Barry, unsure, but Barry nodded slightly; the teenager sighed and glanced back at Professor Stein, shaking his offered hand. "Linda," she replied. "Linda Kent."

"Ooh, bit of a grip there," Stein commented after they let go; he chuckled a little as he flexed his fingers, looking at Barry. "So, it appears as if you've discovered our youngest meta-human to date."

"Uh," Barry said slowly as he looked at Linda, uncertain.

Linda shrugged. "They're probably going to find out anyway," she simply said, "so might as well tell them now."

"Tell us what?" Ronnie asked, curiously.

"She's not a meta-human," Barry answered slowly before clearing his throat. "Uh, to be honest…she's not…exactly…human. At all."

Both Ronnie and Stein furrowed their eyebrows, staring at Barry; when they saw his expression and realized he wasn't kidding, they slowly looked over at Linda, stunned. Linda smiled sheepishly as she held up her hand in a Vulcan salute.

"Klaatu barada nikto?" she said.

* * *

Clark stood near Barry's suit, staring at it in silence, while Martha watched him; Caitlin and Cisco stayed behind the control center, giving the two space but glancing over occasionally.

"You okay?" Martha asked softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Clark replied, just as quiet. He glanced over and saw his mother looking at him, one eyebrow raised. "Mom, really, I'm fine." His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, checking the number; he sighed. "It's Jimmy—again."

"You need to let him know what's going on," Martha said.

"I told him I would as soon as I talked to Linda," Clark countered. Martha looked unconvinced, and the reporter sighed. "Look, I know they said they're just going to be friends, and I know he's worried about her, but I could have brought him with me, and he'd **still** be asking questions," he shrugged, "of course, knowing him, he'd probably try to find her himself." He sighed as his phone buzzed again with another text message from the young photographer.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say this 'Jimmy' is Jimmy Olsen," Cisco said from his spot; Clark and Martha looked over, "and he knows about you and Linda, right?" Clark gave Cisco a look, which Cisco easily recognized. "And it's none of my business, so I'm just gonna go check on something in the lab." He hurried away as Caitlin gave them an apologetic look.

"Cisco doesn't mean anything," she said. "He can just be a little…exuberant when he's excited."

"We know," Martha replied, "but please don't be offended that we're not exactly thrilled you and Cisco are aware of Clark and Linda's secret."

"I understand," Caitlin said, not offended, "but I hope you realize that Cisco and I have no intention of revealing their secret to anyone; they're Barry's friends, and we wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that friendship or—more importantly—their safety."

Everyone turned toward the Cortex's entrance as Linda and Barry—still in uniform with his mask off—walked in. Linda's eyes fell on her cousin and mother, and she hesitated briefly before she headed over to them; she hugged her cousin around the waist, leaning against him.

"I hope you're not mad at me," she said softly.

"I'm not," Clark replied, hugging her back. "It wasn't your fault."

Linda pulled back, unconvinced. "Really?" she asked. Clark nodded, and Linda appeared relieved before she turned to Martha. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay," Martha said, hugging her daughter. "I'm not mad at you."

"What about Dad?" Linda asked as they pulled apart.

"I haven't said anything yet," Martha replied. "I figured we'll wait until we can tell him in person."

"He's still not going to be happy other people know," Linda said.

"To be honest," Cisco spoke up as he came out of the lab, with a mug of freshly brewed coffee, "I've actually had my suspicions for a while." The Kents looked at him, confused and a little apprehensive.

"You had a list, didn't you?" Barry asked.

"Hell yeah," Cisco replied proudly. "I have one for every single member on the League—not that I expect you to tell me who they are, though that would save some trouble." He nodded at the reporter. "Clark Kent was actually in my top twenty out of a hundred," he nodded at Linda, "and Skittles was in the top fifty on hers; she would've probably been higher, but there's a lot of teenagers in both Smallville and Metropolis who could've also fit, and who showed up at around the time of the 'strange crash' in Smallville—and then there was all the weird 'Girl of Metropolis' stuff, while hardly any weird stuff happened in Smallville, so I wasn't sure exactly **where** the girl was." He shrugged. "My bet was on Metropolis, actually, so kudos for keeping a low profile."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Barry asked, no sure if he should be affronted or impressed.

Cisco fixed Barry with a serious expression. "Because I learn, dude."

"Learn what?" Clark asked suspiciously.

"Uh, I think he means he's learning not to spill everything that pops into his mind," Caitlin said nonchalantly. She looked at Martha and Clark, who still appeared apprehensive.

Linda glanced between her mother and cousin and recognized their body language; she sighed. "Look, guys, there's really nothing we can do about this now," she said. "I mean, the cat's out of the bag—and it's not like we can go back in time and stop this from happening." Clark raised an eyebrow, giving her a look, but Linda shook her head, frowning. "I'm not doing that, Clark. I've already done that to one friend and I still feel horrible; I'm not doing it again just to make you guys feel better."

Clark sighed and closed his eyes, knowing what she was referring to. "I didn't mean it, Short Stack," he said. "I would **never** ask you to do that."

"Then why did you even bring it up?" Linda asked, defensively.

"I forgot," Clark said lamely. "I shouldn't have, because he's your friend, but I just forgot how you were affected by that." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, this was not how I wanted this visit to go," he shrugged, "but it happened, and we're just going to have to deal with this." He noticed Linda still appeared apprehensive, so he decided to change the subject. "So, uh, you got your super-breath under control."

Linda gave him a slightly annoyed expression; she was still a little hurt by what her cousin had said, even though she knew he hadn't meant it to be hurtful. "Yeah," she replied, glancing over at the speedster, smiling a bit, "Barry's a good teacher."

"Well, you're a fast learner," Barry retorted, smiling, "and I know a thing or two about speed."

Linda glanced back at Clark. "Though, I'm surprised you didn't show up yourself," she said. "We've been gone for a few hours, and I know it would have taken you less than **one** to search the entire planet for me."

"Oh, I knew where you were," Clark replied. "I actually watched you practice for a bit," he held up a hand as Linda opened her mouth, "but I didn't bother you, because I saw you pretty much had it under control."

"So, you're not mad?" Linda asked.

"No, of course not," Clark replied, smiling.

"Good, because there's something else that I need to tell you," Linda replied. She glanced over at the Cortex entrance as both Ronnie and Professor Stein walked in, "and it's a bit of a doozy."

(End of Chapter 5)


	6. Chapter 6

Linda easily tossed the last of the bales of hay into the far end of the loft before picking up all the wires and effortlessly crushing them into a ball; she made her way down the stairs and tossed the wire into a nearby trashcan before she started cleaning up the area, letting her mind drift back to the events of the day.

Martha and Clark hadn't been too thrilled by the revelation of knowing that two more people knew about Linda—regardless of who they were—but they also knew there was really nothing they could do to change the outcome. Martha had decided it was best to cut Linda's visit short before any other surprises happened, so Clark flew them all back to Smallville, where they spent the next half hour filling Jonathan in on; the farmer was obviously not thrilled by what had happened, especially with the thought of four strangers knowing about his children's secret. Still, he took it better than anyone had predicted, and Linda had been relieved—until they'd told Linda that they thought it best if she stayed in Smallville until the rest of her abilities emerged.

 _"What?!" Linda asked in disbelief as she stood in the kitchen. "That's not fair! I thought you guys said you weren't mad about what happened."_

 _"Linda, honey, we're not," Martha said gently, "but try to understand where we're coming from."_

 _"Oh, I understand," Linda replied, "this sucks!"_

 _"Young lady, you can be mad all you want," Jonathan said sternly, "but you will **not** speak to your mother that way."_

 _"How many times was Clark allowed to leave Smallville before all of his powers came in?" Linda demanded._

 _"Linda, my powers didn't come in the way yours have," Clark answered._

 _"And that's **my** fault?!" Linda asked._

 _"No, of course not," Clark replied._

 _"So then why am_ I _being punished for it?" Linda asked. She didn't wait for an answer as she turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her._

The young girl took a deep breath as she felt her anger build; she knew it was useless to get mad—she couldn't do anything about it, and she didn't want to get into **more** trouble for destroying any property.

"Is is safe to come in?"

Linda stiffened when she recognized the voice, but she didn't turn around. "It's your barn," she replied curtly as she continued working.

Jonathan ignored his daughter's tone as he walked in; he made his way over to the tractor and just watched her work. "You know," he said after a few moments of silence, "regardless of what you might think, we really aren't mad."

"But I'm still the one being punished," Linda muttered as she put all the tools and equipment up. "I didn't ask for these abilities—and I **really** didn't ask for them to come in like this."

"I know," Jonathan replied.

"So, why are you treating me different than Clark?" Linda asked.

"Because you **are** different," Jonathan answered. "You're not Clark, and we have to do what we feel is best for **you**."

"Do you love him more than me?" Linda asked, keeping her back to the farmer.

Jonathan set his jaw as he walked over to the young girl and gently turned her around; his heart wrenched when he saw the tears in her eyes as she averted her gaze, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Linda Claire Kent," he said softly but firmly, "look at me." Linda slowly looked up at him. "I know it's going to take time for you to really feel like we're your family, but don't think for one second we any love you less than Clark; you're as much our daughter as he's our son."

"Then why am I stuck here?" Linda asked softly.

"Because we love you enough to keep you safe," Jonathan replied. "I know it's not fair, believe me, but we don't want anything to happen to you. Once the rest of your abilities are in and under control, then we can talk about letting you have more freedom."

"But what if my hearing and flight don't come in for another year?" Linda asked.

Jonathan leaned over to look her directly into her eyes. "Given the history of your powers so far," he said, amused, "I have a feeling your last two are going to be in before the school year is over." Linda looked a little relieved, and he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Are we okay now?" Linda nodded. "Good." He glanced over his shoulder. "You can come in now!" Linda's eyes widened as Jimmy and Gar walked in through the barn doors, and she looked at her father, who grinned widely. "I'll leave you three alone." He kissed Linda's forehead once more before turning and exiting the barn, nodding briefly at the teenage boys when he passed them.

"What are you guys doing here?" Linda asked as her friends walked over.

"Clark came and got us," Jimmy replied, a backpack slung over his shoulder, "told us what happened. He figured you could use some company your own age." He tilted his head, a little concerned. "You okay?"

Linda shrugged. "I guess," she replied. "I mean, I'm relieved my super-breath finally came in and all, but I was just hoping to meet **one** of Clark's friends without any issues." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know, I could really use a distraction right now. You guys wanna help?"

"What do you have in mind?" Gar asked.

* * *

"This is a first," Jimmy said as he leaned against the grain silo, arms folded.

Linda sat in a folding chair, her pencil flying across the blank surface of her sketch page; she briefly glanced over, smiling. "What?" she asked. "You've never seen a penguin before?"

"Not like this," Jimmy answered bluntly, tilting his head, staring at the tractor situated about twenty feet away. It had been strung with white Christmas lights, contrasting the red paint wonderfully, but the feature that stood out the most was the large Emperor penguin, sporting a Santa hat, that stood on the driver's seat; a couple of spot lights had been brought out to illuminate the area. "Why are you doing this again?"

"Because I'm thinking about doing some pieces on animals," Linda replied as she continued to sketch. "Maybe a series called 'Penguins on the Farm.'" The penguin made a loud noise, and Linda grinned. "Gar likes it."

"What, you can speak penguin now?" Jimmy asked, amused.

"No, but I **am** telepathic," Linda retorted, smiling. She made a few more sweeps with her pencil then stared at it; after a few moments she nodded, satisfied. "Yep, I'm done." She looked up at the penguin. "We're good." The penguin instantly morphed into Gar, the Santa hat still on his head; he easily hopped off the tractor and walked over. "Thanks, Gar."

"No prob," Gar replied, "and if you ever need more models, just let me know," he gave a slight bow, one hand over his stomach, and the other behind him, "I am at your service, m'lady."

"Thank you, kind sir," Linda replied, smiling. "And speaking of service," she glanced at Jimmy, "I have a favor to ask you."

"Oh?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, Bruce and Ollie got a website for my gallery," Linda said, "and I've gotten most of it taken care of—online ordering, stuff like that—but I'd like to have pictures of my pieces up there as well…and I was wondering if you'd like to do that for me."

"Me?" Jimmy asked, surprised.

Linda nodded. "I tried taking some photos a few days ago," she said, "but they didn't turn out as well I'd hope." She shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I may be a good artist, but you are **definitely** a better photographer." Jimmy shuffled, looking down, embarrassed. "I'll reimburse you for your time."

"No," Jimmy said quickly, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. "I mean, yeah, sure I'll help, but you don't have to pay me or anything."

"I'm not having you do it for free," Linda replied before looking at Gar, "just like I don't want you to help out without some kind of reimbursement, either."

"Well, maybe you can pay us in food," Gar suggested.

"Like dinner or something?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Gar replied. "You're a good cook, and I happen to have a fondness for burritos." He glanced at Jimmy. "Whaddya say, Jimbo? 'Will work for food'?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Linda. He was tempted to decline the offer, but he knew Linda would be hurt—and Gar was right: Linda was a pretty good cook; he sighed, smiling. "Sure, why not?" he replied.

Linda looked relieved. "Thanks, guys," she replied before she looked at Jimmy, folding her arms. "You know, since we're done here, maybe we can talk about that stuff you said you found."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Jimmy said. "I left it in my backpack in the loft." He took a few steps toward the barn then stopped when he saw a soft orange glow in the distance. "What's that?" Gar and Linda looked over, furrowing their eyebrows.

"That's coming from the cemetery," Gar said, tilting his head in concern.

Linda focused her vision, zooming in as she quickly scanned the cemetery. Everything appeared quiet and normal—as quiet and normal as a cemetery could be—but the young girl saw a person running among the tombstones; her eyes widened when realized the figure was on fire.

"Someone's on fire," she said as before switching back to normal vision. Without waiting for a response, she blurred off, leaving Gar and Jimmy behind.

"I'll go help," Gar said before he took off his Santa hat and handed it to Jimmy before changing into a black jaguar; he gave a little growl before sprinting after her.

"Fine, I'll just stay here this time!" Jimmy shouted after them, smiling slightly. He sighed as he shook his head and turned to head back to the farmhouse.

* * *

Linda blurred through the northern entrance of the Smallville Cemetery, stopping near a group of tombstones; she heard a sound of snow crunching grow louder and looked over in time to see a girl running toward her, looking behind her—as if she were running from something. Even in the dark, Linda could see the girl was about her age, with long, red hair that hung to her mid-back, and blue eyes; she wore a set of gray scrubs with no shoes or socks, with a dog tag dangling on a chain around her neck.

"Hey!" Linda called out. The girl turned her head and skittered to a stop about ten feet from Linda. "Are you okay?"

"Who are you?" the girl asked, breathing heavily. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"It's okay," Linda said calmly, sensing a lot of fear in the girl. "I'm not going to hurt you. I was passing by, and I thought I saw some flames, so I came—"

"I'm not going back!" the girl shouted—right before she completely burst into flames. Linda eyes widened as the girl thrust her hands out in front of her; two large blasts of fire erupted from her palms and headed right for Linda.

(End of Chapter 6)


	7. Chapter 7

Linda held up her hands, putting up an invisible shield right before the flames hit; the fire dissipated harmlessly around her. She watched as the flames disappeared around the girl, except her hands, as she stared at Linda like a caged animal.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Linda said as she dropped her telekinetic barrier. "What's your name?"

"They sent you to bring me back, didn't they?" the girl said defensively.

"Who's 'they'?" Linda asked, tilting her head. The girl responded by repeatedly blasting flames at Linda, who held up her arms; she wasn't getting burned, but it was a little frustrating. "Stop it! I'm not here to hurt you!" She cautiously lowered her arms and was immediately blasted in the face; she groaned as she stumbled backward and immediately hit by another blast. Linda crashed into a tombstone, the marble easily breaking as she fell to the ground. She moaned a little, more stunned than hurt, as she glanced up; the girl approached her, glaring down at Linda, hands still aflame.

"I don't know who you are," she said, "but you can tell Kurt that I'm not going back; I don't care who he sends after me." She raised her hands to blast Linda again, but a loud roar echoed through the cemetery. The girl whirled around, and her eyes widened when she saw the large black jaguar charging her at full speed; it launched itself into the air and slammed into the girl, tackling her. The two tumbled for a few feet before the girl stopped, laying on her back, pinned to the ground as the jaguar stood over her; its lips were curled back, showing off a large set of canines, snarling loudly.

Linda hid a relieved smile as she scrambled to her feet and walked over. "Look," she said gently, "we want to help you, but you have to calm down."

"No one can help me," the girl said before flames engulfed her and pulsated outward, hitting both the jaguar and Linda; both shouted as they tumbled back, stopping twenty feet away. The two slowly got to their feet, shaking their heads and looking around. The girl was gone, but some of the nearby trees had caught fire—and the flames were spreading fast. Linda's heart pounded as she glanced over at the jaguar as it morphed back into Gar and hurried over to her, his face and hands covered in blisters.

"You're hurt," Linda said worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Gar replied, "but we gotta get out of here."

"And if we leave before those flames are out," Linda retorted, "there'll be a big forest fire in no time."

"And just how are we going to—" Linda just looked at him, eyebrows raised, and Gar recognized that expression, "oh, yeah, right." Linda turned back to the trees, noticing how quickly the flames were spreading. The young girl focused and took a deep breath, blowing out with a controlled force, sweeping the area; cold air blasted the trees, quickly extinguishing the flames before they caused any real damage. After waiting for half a minute to make sure everything was put out, Linda turned back to her friend.

"Okay," Linda said, slightly out of breath, "now about," she stopped short when she saw the blisters had disappeared from Gar's face and hands, even as his skin stayed deep pink, "uh…where are your blisters?"

"You aren't the only one who heals fast," Gar replied, smirking a little, "and I don't require sunlight, either."

Linda gave a small smile, shaking her head slightly. "Thanks for helping," she said.

"Hey, I got the moves like jaguar," Gar replied, grinning briefly. "So, you know what that was all about?"

"Not a clue," Linda answered as she looked around, "but whatever's going on, we have to find that girl before something else happens." She scanned the ground and saw something glistening near a tombstone. She hurried over and knelt down to pick it up; she recognized it as the dog tag the girl had worn around her neck. Engraved on one side was a large flame in front of stylized DNA, and the other side was engraved with 'Project Number: 09191998'.

"Find something?" Gar asked as he walked over.

"Oh, yeah," Linda answered. The sound of sirens growing louder caused them both to look up; Linda stuffed the chain in her jean pocket after getting to her feet. "We better get back home."

"Right behind you," Gar replied before morphing back into a jaguar.

"Something less conspicuous this time," Linda said. The jaguar growled softly and appeared to glare at her before it changed into a red-tailed hawk and flew off; Linda grinned before taking off at full speed, heading out of the cemetery in a blur.

* * *

"Is that it?" Jonathan asked as he stood in front of the mantle in the living room, arms crossed; Martha stood next to him; their expressions were pretty neutral as they looked down at the three teenagers sitting on the couch.

"Yeah, that's about it," Linda replied, trying to sound calm and unassuming.

"Well," Jonathan replied, crossing his arms, looking a little stern, "we can't fault you for going and helping someone—and you technically didn't break any rules by running to the cemetery—but from what you've told us, there's a lot more to this than we know."

"That's what I think, too," Linda agreed, "because after she left—"

"And that's why we don't want you to get involved," Jonathan interrupted; he glanced briefly at Gar and Jimmy. "Any of you."

"What?" Linda asked, confused.

"Linda, if there are people after this girl," Martha spoke up, "then they're probably after her because of her ability. If you get involved, they could learn the truth about you and Gar—at worst, all of you could get hurt."

"So, we're just gonna do nothing?" Linda asked in disbelief as she got to her feet.

"Of course not," Jonathan answered calmly, "we'll call Clark; he and Chloe and Lois can look into it."

"Why is it okay for Clark to look into it and not me?" Linda asked.

"Linda, you know why," Martha replied gently.

"Yeah, because he's 'Superman,'" Linda retorted in a mocking tone.

"Young lady," Jonathan said sternly, "did it ever occur to you that the reason we don't want you involved in something is because you're not an adult and we want to keep you safe?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe not being an adult would have more of an advantage in helping this girl?" Linda countered. "She's running scared from what we all can safely assume are a bunch of adults; how do you think she'll react to seeing a bunch of famous reporters coming after her?"

"Well, that's a risk Clark and the others will just have to take," Jonathan replied calmly. Linda opened her mouth, but Jonathan stopped her. "You will **not** get involved, do you understand me?"

Linda set her jaw, intending to spout off in a tirade, but she felt a hand touch her right arm. Without looking down, she knew it was Jimmy trying to calm her down.

 _[Linda, take it easy.]_

 _[This isn't fair, Jimmy, and you know it.]_

 _[I know, but mouthing off to your folks isn't going to help. Just take a deep breath, okay?]_

Linda followed his instructions, slowly breathing in and out of her mouth, feeling a little calmer. "I'm going to the loft," she said curtly to her parents; she didn't wait for a reply as she marched out of the living room. Jonathan sighed and closed his eyes, frustrated.

"Uh, we'll keep an eye on her," Gar replied lamely as he and Jimmy awkwardly got to their feet and headed after their friend.

"Jimmy," Martha said. Gar and Jimmy stopped and shared a look; Jimmy nodded and Gar left, heading out of the house.

"Yes, Mrs. Kent?" Jimmy asked.

"Thank you, " Martha answered. "I don't know what you said to Linda, but thank you for calming her down."

Jimmy looked a little panicked. "You knew what we were doing?" he asked, slightly nervous.

"Yes," Martha replied, her lips curled into a small smile.

The young photographer shrugged, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "You're welcome," he mumbled before heading out of the living room.

Martha glanced over at her husband, who still appeared upset. "She just wants to help," she said. "Clark was the same way when he was her age."

"Martha, you don't really think we should let her investigate this," Jonathan replied, slightly incredulous.

"Of course not," Martha replied before leaning over and gently kissing the farmer. "I just know we're going to have to keep an eye on her; she can be just as hard-headed as her cousin," she smiled a little, "and her adoptive father." Jonathan raised an eyebrow, but he smiled in return and leaned over to kiss her gently.

* * *

Linda leaned against the open door loft, staring up at the clear night sky as she fumed quietly. A small shuffling behind caused her to turn around and see an Emperor penguin waddling over. Linda simply rolled her eyes and turned back. "Not in the mood, Gar."

The penguin morphed back into Gar, who looked a little hurt but not offended. "Sorry," he said as he walked over. "You okay?"

"I can't believe they're just brushing us aside like that," Linda said as she turned around. "And then to bring in Clark and Chloe and Lois just because they're adults," she shook her head, "that's so unfair."

"Yeah, it is," Gar agreed, then he tilted his head, "and I'm guessing that's why you didn't tell them about the dog tag you found."

"What dog tag?" Jimmy asked as he reached the top of the stairs and headed over.

Linda reached into her pocket and pulled out the dog tag, handing it to Jimmy. "The girl was wearing that when Gar and I fought her," she explained as Jimmy slowly looked it over. "I was going to show it to Mom and Dad, but they decided to be difficult."

Jimmy glanced up at her briefly, deciding it was best to hold his tongue, before continuing his visual sweep of the dog tag. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, staring at the flame and DNA symbol.

"Not a clue," Linda replied, "but I know a couple of people who could help us figure it out."

"Uh, your folks kinda told you to stay out," Gar pointed out gently.

"I know," Linda replied, "and I've taken their instructions under consideration, but I've made my decision—and I could **definitely** use your help, guys." Gar and Jimmy glanced at each other; Gar shrugged, not sure what to say.

Jimmy simply sighed as he stared back at the dog tag. "I got a bad feeling about this," he muttered.

(End of Chapter 7)


	8. Chapter 8

"I still can't believe you did that," Jimmy said as he walked quickly down the main corridor of the high school the next morning, nervously glancing around every few seconds. It was Saturday—and school was out for the holiday, anyway—but he still felt like people were going to jump out of the side hallways at any minute.

"Will you stop that?" Linda asked, slightly annoyed, as she and Gar walked with him; Jimmy had his backpack slung over his shoulder. "It's not like I did any actual—or permanent—damage to the system."

"So, let's recap the past twelve hours," Gar spoke up. "You lied to your folks about the dog tag, then lied to them again by saying we're going window shopping on Main Street and then to the Talon, and **then** you telekinetically shorted out the school's security system so no one would see Jimmy on the property, because he's still not allowed to be here."

"When you say it like that," Linda replied, smirking, "you make it sound like I'm a criminal."

"Considering how you were my accomplice when we stole your folks' truck," Jimmy replied, smiling a little, "I think we've already established that you should have a record, Linda."

"Anyway," Linda replied, hiding a proud smile as they turned the corner and saw the lights on in the Torch office, "we're just here for information—when we get it, we'll leave." She poked her head inside and spotted Wally and Cutter hard at work on their computers. "Hey, you two." The two looked over and smiled.

"Oh, hey, come on in," Cutter said, smiling in return as Linda walked in, followed by Gar and Jimmy.

"Uh, he's not supposed to be here," Wally pointed out, glancing at Jimmy.

"I know," Linda replied, "but we won't be long."

"Why is he here anyway?" Cutter asked.

"He's helping me with my gallery's website," Linda replied.

"And how did you get past security?" Wally asked.

"I have my ways," Linda answered, "and I can trust you guys to keep quiet, right?" Wally and Cutter saw the pleading expression Linda gave them and glanced at each other; they shrugged and sighed.

"Our lips are sealed," Cutter replied.

"Thanks, guys," Linda said gratefully.

"So, what brings you here?" Wally asked before smirking. "Finally decided to drop that wimpy art stuff and do something worthwhile for a change?"

Linda grinned, knowing he was teasing. "If I considered journalism worthwhile," she replied, "then maybe."

"You tell 'em, girl," Gar replied before they high-fived.

"Ah, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Cutter asked, smiling as he crossed his arms. "Well, you do realize that there're three journalists here versus you two artists—and we have the home court advantage."

"Hey, don't underestimate the two of us," Gar retorted. "Linda and I make a pretty good team."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to side with them on that one," Jimmy added, smiling.

"Traitor," Wally muttered, still smiling.

"So, what can we do for you?" Cutter asked.

"Well, we want to see if you can find out anything about this," Linda replied as she pulled the dog tag from her pocket. Cutter and Wally appeared intrigued as they got up and walked over; Cutter took the tag and examined it, with Wally peering over his shoulder.

"Where did you get this?" Cutter asked as he looked it over.

"Found it last night in the woods near the farm," Linda replied calmly, knowing it wasn't **technically** a lie.

"What were you guys doing out in the woods last night?" Wally asked curiously.

"I was getting inspiration for an idea I had," Linda replied. "A first-person point of view of the night sky through the bare branches."

"Gar was with you?" Wally asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced between Jimmy and Linda.

"He's my friend," Linda replied quickly, "and he's a fellow artist; I wanted his opinion. Now, can we get back to the dog tag, please?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Cutter said as he headed over to his desk, still holding the dog tag and sat down; the others gathered around him as he typed some keys on his keyboard. They watched the screen for a few minutes as Cutter pulled out all of his talents, his fingers flying across the keyboard as command after command was executed. After what seemed like an eternity, 'Cadmus' suddenly appeared on the screen.

"Uh…," Cutter said slowly, eyebrows raised.

"What is 'Cadmus'?" Jimmy asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned over.

"Didn't he raise an army from dragon teeth?" Gar asked.

"And founded the city of Thebes, according to Greek mythology," Cutter said, "but something tells me this isn't a website for Cliffs Notes." A small window popped up, asking for a username and password, and Cutter sighed, "Yeah, I'm not sure we should be here."

"Here, let me try something," Jimmy replied. He didn't wait for a response as he leaned over and began typing on the keyboard. In a few seconds, he'd brought up a simple black desktop with 'Cadmus' on top and numerous folders neatly arranged. "Okay, where do we go now—and make it quick; I temporarily rerouted the signal so they can't trace us, but it only lasts a minute."

"Nice," Wally said, impressed.

"Please teach us that one day," Cutter added.

"Go to that one," Linda said as she leaned beside him, pointing at a folder marked 'Projects.'

Jimmy clicked on folder, which opened another window with even more folders.

"'Achilles'," Gar read slowly, "'Excalibur', 'Firestorm', 'Gilgamesh'…."

"Did you say 'Firestorm'?" Linda asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yeah, right here," Gar answered, pointing to one of the folders on the screen.

"Open that one," Linda replied seriously.

Jimmy glanced at Linda, a little concerned at how serious her expression appeared, but he kept his mouth shut as he clicked on the folder; he sighed, frustrated, when another security window popped up, asking for another username and password. "Yeah, that's not happening," he said. "I don't have enough time." He quickly typed a few commands, cutting the connection with the server then glanced up at Linda; she looked really upset. "Sorry, Linda, I had no choice."

"I know," Linda replied. She stared at the blank computer screen for a few seconds before grabbing the dog tag from Cutter's hand. "Jimmy, Gar, we gotta go."

"Hey," Cutter protested as the trio quickly made their way to the door. "Linda, what's going on?" The trio stopped and turned around.

"Sorry, guys," Linda said sincerely, "but I really need you to stay out of this."

"Linda, is there something you're not telling us?" Wally asked.

"No, of course not," Linda lied. "It's just that…whatever this Cadmus thing is, it must be pretty serious, so you should probably just leave it alone."

"Does this have anything to do with the fire in the cemetery last night?" Cutter asked suddenly.

"There was a fire last night?" Linda asked, trying to sound confused. Cutter and Wally raised their eyebrows, and Linda sighed. "Okay, fine, yes, we know about the fire, but why would you say this tag is connected to it?"

"Because the fire marshal it was one of the strangest fires he'd ever seen," Wally answered. "Trees had been set on fire, but nothing on the ground was burned, except for a series of scorched footprints leaning a mile away."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for that," Jimmy said, sounding casual. "Whoever set the fire must've caught their shoes on fire and run off."

"Yeah, just a few holes in that theory," Cutter pointed out. "First, these were actual footprints, not shoeprints, so their feet would've been on fire, but there's no sign of a charred body or any body parts. Second, the stride pattern and pressure points indicate the person was running **toward** the cemetery, not away."

"Add that to the dog tag having a flame on it," Wally continued, "that led us to something called 'Cadmus', which has an **insane** level of security and is working on something called 'Firestorm'—which Linda appears to be **very** interested in," he folded his arms, "and it seems like you guys aren't being completely honest with us."

Linda glanced between Wally and Cutter, torn; after a few moments, she simply shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," she simply said before turning to leave.

"You asked for our help," Wally protested.

"Yeah, and it was a mistake," Linda snapped as she turned around, frowning. She saw Cutter and Wally's stunned expressions and she immediately felt horrible for her harsh reaction; she sighed, her countenance softening before she wordlessly brushed past Jimmy and Gar, heading out of the room. Jimmy and Gar glanced at each other before following; they quickly caught up with Linda as she marched down the main hall, arms folded and head down.

"Linda?" Jimmy asked as he walked beside her; she didn't respond, so he gently grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Okay, what was that back there?"

"Nothing," Linda answered. Jimmy gave her a look, and Linda sighed. "Fine, if you want to know the truth, this is turning into 'Clark and Chloe 2.0.'"

"And that means what, exactly?" Gar asked, confused.

"When Clark needed help with things he was looking into," Linda explained, "he'd go to Chloe, because she was good at getting the info, but he'd always have to lie to her."

"Because he didn't want her getting hurt?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, yeah," Linda answered, "but he was also worried how she'd react to learning the truth. I just did the exact same thing to Wally and Cutter—and they know we're hiding something."

"You think they'd write a story on you if they found out who you really are?" Gar asked.

"I don't care about me," Linda said insistently. "I'm worried they might write a story about that girl because I pretty much put them on her trail."

"Oh," Jimmy said slowly, the realization hitting him; he looked over at Gar. "When Chloe was our age, she was pretty…dedicated to writing about all the weird stuff in Smallville—a lot of it dealt with what she called 'meteor freaks'—metahumans, really—who'd gotten abilities from being exposed to kryptonite after the '89 meteor shower."

"But there's no way that girl in the cemetery was alive when the meteor shower happened," Gar said. "She didn't look much older than us."

"And you and I both know that there're other ways to get superpowers, Gar," Linda replied. She shook her head and sighed, frustrated. "Can we go to the Talon? I could use a shot of something chocolaty and caffeinated." The three friends headed down the hall toward the front of the building.

(End of Chapter 8)


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: In my series, I'm following comic book canon about Central City's location. It will be located about 300 miles from Smallville, and be in the northwest part of Missouri, not on the West Coast, like in Arrow and Flash._

"Here you go," Melody said cheerfully as she reached across the counter and handed the three teenagers large mugs with their favorite drinks; the trio made their way through the crowd to an empty table and sat down.

"So, what do we do now?" Jimmy asked before carefully sipping his drink.

"We need to find out what Cadmus is," Linda replied, "and their connection to 'Firestorm.'"

"Yeah, what's going on with that?" Gar asked. "You looked like you were going to freak out when you recognized it. What gives?"

Linda leaned forward, and Jimmy and Gar followed suit. "Look," she said, her voice low, "all I can say is that it involves someone the Flash knows, and I can't say any more; I'm really sorry."

"Linda, it's okay," Jimmy reassured her. While there were secrets about the League that he was in on—mainly their identities (which Gar didn't even know)—there were other things that he knew Linda wouldn't be able to tell him; it was a little frustrating, but he understood why.

"Yeah, it's cool," Gar added. "If you can't say anything, you can't say anything."

"And I'm not liking that look on your face," Jimmy said to Linda as she leaned back in her chair, absentmindedly gulping her drink. "What are you thinking?"

"Maybe I should go back to Central City," Linda mused. "I might be able to some answers about Cadmus from some people."

"Aren't you not allowed to leave Smallville?" Gar asked warily.

"Gar, don't confuse her with facts," Jimmy replied, slightly amused.

"I'm just thinking," Linda answered after she quickly downed the rest of her drink. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth before wadding the napkin up and tossing it into a nearby trash bin; she stood up. "I'm gonna get another one. Be right back." She dodged a few people as she headed to the counter, thankful there wasn't a line as she plopped her mug down.

"That was quick," Melody remarked as she eyed the empty mug, then glanced at the young girl. "You didn't burn yourself, did you?"

"Nope," Linda replied, "but can I get a refill?"

"One of those days, hmmm?" Melody asked, smiling a little. Linda shrugged, and Melody took the mug and busied herself with making Linda's drink; Linda absentmindedly leaned against the counter, lost in her thoughts.

"I need to speak with whoever's in charge."

The commanding voce startled Linda, causing her to look over and see a well-built man in a black suit standing next to her. He had brassy brown hair, eyebrows that slanted toward his nose, and creepy brown eyes; Linda inwardly shuddered a little.

"I'm in charge," Melody said as she walked over to the counter. "May I ask who you are?"

"Agent Kurt Jordan, FBI," the man said as he pulled a badge from his suit pocket; Linda glanced briefly at him as held the badge up for a few seconds before returning it to his pocket.

"How can I help you, Agent?" Melody asked.

"Have you seen this girl?" Kurt asked as he pulled out a black and white photo and put it on the counter. As Melody leaned over, Linda nonchalantly glanced down and instantly recognized the girl staring back.

"No, can't say that I have," Melody replied, "but then again, a lot of people come and go; I don't remember **everyone** that comes through here."

The agent narrowed his eyes slightly; Linda adverted her gaze, pretending to be interested in the selection of muffins in the display case, as Kurt glanced over at her. "Hey, what about you?" he asked.

Linda pretended to looked confused. "Huh?" she responded.

"Have you seen this girl?" Kurt replied as he held up the photo.

Linda appeared to study the photograph as she scanned the agent's mind.

 _[Come on, kid, I don't got all day.]_

"Can't say that I have," Linda answered casually. "What'd she do?

"None of your business," Kurt replied as he put the photo away. _[Claire's going to pay **big** time when I get my hands on her. I don't get paid nearly enough to put up with this crap.]_ He abruptly turned around and headed toward the entrance.

"Wonder what that was all about," Melody commented before she turned to get Linda's drink. She turned back, mug in hand, but Linda had wordlessly left, leaving a very confused Melody.

"What was that about?" Gar asked as Linda walked over.

"We gotta go, now," Linda replied before hurrying toward the entrance. Jimmy and Gar glanced at each other, puzzled, before Jimmy grabbed his backpack and the two scrambled after her. They caught up with Linda as she stood on the sidewalk in front of the Talon and looked around.

"Linda, what is it?" Jimmy asked.

Linda glanced to her left and saw Kurt walking briskly down the sidewalk. "Him," she said as she started walking after him; Jimmy and Gar followed, and the trio kept a safe distance from him, trying to appear like they **weren't** following him. "That's Kurt, the guy looking for Claire."

"Who's Claire?" Gar asked.

"The girl from the cemetery," Linda answered, keeping her eyes on the agent. "I scanned Kurt's mind."

"What else did you find?" Jimmy asked.

"Not much," Linda answered, "just that he's—"

"Stop right there!"

The trio—along with everyone else on the street—looked in the direction of the voice and saw Kurt and a few other suited men—running from different directions, converging on Fordman's Department Store. Linda tried to peer over the heads of several people, but she was unable; she was about to switch to x-ray vision when huge fireballs blasted in all directions, blasting Fordman's display windows and sending the suited men scrambling for cover behind nearby vehicles; other people screamed and scattered in several directions, including Jimmy and Gar, who pulled Linda with them as they ducked behind a large SUV. Jimmy quickly rummaged in his bag; a couple of seconds later, he pulled his camera out and carefully stood up, peering over the hood of the top and snapping off pictures while Gar and Linda cautiously peered around the side.

Right outside the front entrance of Fordman's, completely engulfed in flames, stood Claire; Linda could see the anger on the girl's face, even through the flames, and she could tell Claire was done running. She watched as a couple of the suited men pulled guns from under the jackets and aim them at Claire.

"I don't think so," Linda muttered before she quickly lowered her glasses, squinting slightly; two beams of heat shot from her eyes, hitting the gun of the closest suited man. The top immediately melted into slag, heat radiating through the rest of the weapon, and the man yelped as he dropped the gun, clutching his hand in pain; she quickly did the same with the other man.

"Nice," Gar replied, impressed.

"Thanks," Linda muttered.

"Give yourself up!" Kurt shouted as he slowly approached Claire, aiming a large, futuristic-like weapon at the girl.

"I'm not going back!" Claire shouted through her flames. "I'm done with you and your experiments!"

"Even after all these years," Kurt said, looking almost amused, "you still think you have a choice?" The agent pulled the weapon's trigger, and a single blue projectile zoomed out; Claire barely had time to register the object before it hit her, exploding into a large cloud of thick blue powder. Claire's flames were immediately extinguished as the teenager collapsed to the ground, and Kurt and the suited men quickly converged on her; almost immediately, an unmarked black van turned a corner nearby and squealed to a stop in front of the store as the men picked up the unconscious girl. The back doors opened, and the men quickly loaded Claire into the back, before getting in; the doors shut as the van sped away.

"We gotta help her," Linda said as she stood up; she dug her feet in, intending to speed after the vehicle when they heard a loud crash and shouts. They looked over to see the flames inside Fordman's, quickly spreading and growing in intensity. Linda squinted again, combining her telescopic and x-ray vision as she zoomed in on the fiery department store, scanning the interior; her eyes widened when she saw the lone figure in the storage room. "There's someone trapped inside." She didn't wait for a response from her friends as she pulled off her glasses and handed them to Gar before blurring off unseen.

* * *

Curt Heaney fell to the ground, coughing and gasping as thick black smoke filled his lungs and the storage room; he fought to stay conscious, worried about his wife and son, but the smoke and heat slowly overtook him, and he closed his eyes, passing out.

The storage room door suddenly flew inward, slamming into the far wall and falling to the floor. Flames billowed around her, but Linda felt nothing as she walked in and looked around, scanning the area. She spotted the lifeless man on the floor and hurried over to him; she carefully picked him up, holding him securely as she blurred out of the building into the back alley. She gently lay the Heaney on the ground, using her x-ray vision to check that he had a heartbeat and was breathing; after confirming both, she carefully got to her feet and blurred back into the building.

Flames licked the sides of the walls, spreading quickly, but the young girl was undeterred as she took in a deep breath and quickly blew out, sweeping the area with cold air; the flames quickly died down and were completely extinguished within ten seconds, leaving charred merchandise, floors, walls, and ceiling. Giving a quick sweep to make sure nothing would reignite, the young girl blurred out of the building and down the alley, disappearing in the blink of an eye just as Pete and a deputy hurried into the alley. They spotted the man on the ground and ran over to him as he started coming to.

* * *

From across the street, Jimmy and Gar watched with silent concern—the young photographer trying to distract himself by taking more photos—as fire fighters hurried into the department store, emergency vehicles taking up most of the street as officers directed people away from the scene.

"Did you see which way the van went?"

Gar and Jimmy whirled around and saw Linda standing behind them, her ponytail partially undone and her clothes singed.

"Are you okay?" Jimmy asked; it was stupid—he knew she was okay—but he still asked out of habit.

"I'm fine," Linda replied dismissively, "and so is the guy I saved. Now, which way did the van go?"

"Uh, we kinda got distracted by the fire," Gar said slowly, looking apologetic.

Linda's turned and stared at the building; after a few moments, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to Central City," she said before blurring away, leaving her friends by themselves.

(End of Chapter 9)


	10. Chapter 10

Cisco sat at the command center in the Cortex, working on an algorithm while rock music blared out of the lab speakers; he mouthed along with the words as he typed on the keys, bobbing his head softly; a loud whooshing sound caught his attention as some papers scattered from the desk, but the engineer simply sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You're picking those up, not me," Cisco mused as he kept working, not even looking up, "and Caitlin will kill you if they're not in order." He smiled to himself as he felt the wind whip around him briefly before it abruptly stopped.

"Here you go."

The voice was more feminine than Cisco had been expecting; he stopped working and looked up. Linda stood on the other side of the console, holding out a neat stack of papers.

"They should be in order," Linda continued, looking a little apologetic, "but if not, you can tell Caitlin it was my fault."

"Hey, Skittles," Cisco grinned as he got to his feet and headed around the console, "didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon," he stopped when he saw her disheveled hair and singed clothing, "and what happened to you?"

"Building fire," Linda shrugged as she put the papers on top of the nearest computer, "saved someone in the process."

"Nice," Cisco replied, impressed. "So, Barry's not here at the moment, but I could give him a call."

"Actually, I was wondering if Professor Stein was here," Linda replied, trying to sound casual. "I need his expertise on something."

Cisco furrowed his eyebrows, a little confused. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said slowly confused, "I'll go get him." He headed out of the Cortex, leaving Linda alone and returned a few minutes later with Professor Stein, Ronnie, and Caitlin.

"Ah, Miss Kent," Stein smiled as he and the others walked over to the young girl, "it's good to see you again." His smile faded and he raised an eyebrow as he quickly looked her up and down. "I'm assuming there's a perfectly logical explanation to your appearance."

"Yeah, it's a new fashion statement," Linda replied, smiling slightly. "I'm calling it 'Roasted Marshmallow.'" Cisco grinned, and even Ronnie and Caitlin shared a smile.

"Uh huh," Stein replied, unamused. "Does your, uh, family know you're here?"

"Do you think I'd honestly be allowed to come all the way to Central City by myself without someone knowing I'm here," Linda asked, "especially after what happened yesterday?"

"She's got a point," Ronnie spoke up.

"Thank you," Linda replied, "and it was a building fire; I went in, rescued someone, put it out, saved the day."

"You ever consider wearing a suit?" Cisco asked.

"Considered," Linda replied, "and not happening."

"Cisco, really," Caitlin asked, "she's just a kid," she winced suddenly, glancing at Linda apologetically, "and I did not mean that the way it sounded."

"It's okay, Caitlin," Linda replied, unoffended. "I honestly have no intention of following in my cousin's fashion footsteps right now—or in the near future."

"Good, because your cousin's fashion sense sucks," Cisco pointed out. "I mean, who honestly thought spandex was a good idea?"

"The woman who brought you those awesome brownies yesterday?" Linda suggested, folding her arms, smiling slightly.

Cisco blanched a little. "Uh, yeah, can we just all pretend that I didn't actually say that?" he asked.

"Cisco, there's a lot that we pretend you don't actually say," Ronnie joked, clapping his friend on the back.

"Anyway," Linda replied, "the reason I'm here is because I need to know everything about F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M.." The young girl glanced at Stein. "I know you told me a little bit about it yesterday, but I need to know everything."

"Okay, didn't see that coming," Cisco said slowly.

Stein tilted his head and stared at the young girl for a few moments. "Something tells me you're not being completely honest about that fire you were involved with," he said.

"I had an encounter last night with a girl who can start fires," Linda explained, "just like you and Ronnie can when you're merged."

"And you think this girl is the same as us?" Ronnie asked, intrigued.

"I don't think she's two separate people," Linda answered, "but I can't be a hundred percent sure. What I do know is that there are some people after her," she reached into her pocket and pulled out the dog tag, "and she had this around her neck when I confronted her." She handed it to Stein, and the others crowded around to view it. "Did some digging and traced this back to something called Cadmus."

"Like from the Greek myth?" Caitlin asked.

"Guy sowed dragon's teeth and grew an army of warriors," Cisco added.

Linda nodded. "Exactly," she replied. "Saw several project folders on Cadmus' site couldn't access any of them—but the one really stood out was labeled 'Firestorm.'"

"Let me see what I can find," Cisco said as he walked over to the console and sat down; the others gathered around as he started typing; within a few moments, he had pulled up the same website Linda had seen at the Torch, easily bypassing the security measures as he pulled up the 'Firestorm' files.

"There," Linda said, pointing to a file, "'09191998'; that was on the girl's tag." Cisco clicked on the file, opening it, showing a profile and a color picture of the girl. "That's her."

"Says here her name is Claire Selton," Cisco read the profile, "born June 24, 1996, in Coast City, to Kevin and Dana Selton. Normal childhood, but around ten she started showing an aptitude of pyrokinesis; her parents called the Coast City Center for Paranormal Studies to help her learn to deal with her ability, but the day after she was admitted, she was 'released' into the custody of a team headed by a Kurt Jordan—who also headed Project Firestorm."

"Him I also know," Linda muttered, resting her hands on the back of Cisco's chair, thinking back to her earlier encounters with the agent as she peered over Cisco's shoulder. "Does it say why they took her?"

"Well, Project Firestorm was started with the intent of turning Claire into a living weapon-for-hire," Cisco said, reading.

"So, no connection to Professor Stein's F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. Project?" Ronnie asked.

"Doesn't look like it," Cisco answered. "Whatever this Cadmus is, they seem to deal more with using meta-humans as weapons, and not transmutation." He snorted a little. "Makes you wonder if they saw 'Firestarter' before planning this whole thing."

"Huh?" Linda asked, confused.

"1984 Stephen King movie," Cisco replied, "you should check it out."

"If it's Stephen King," Linda said, "then no thanks. I still have to watch 'Blink' during the day or it creeps me out."

"You're a Whovian?" Cisco replied, slowly grinning. Linda nodded, and Cisco looked like he was in seventh heaven. "An alien who likes a show about an alien—I can officially die a happy man right now."

"Sorry to interrupt this enlightening discussion, Mister Ramone," Stein spoke up, "but is there anything else relevant to this investigation?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Cisco replied, focusing back on his monitor. "Well, it says here they stripped her of her identity, gave her the codename Volcana—wish I'd thought of that, because that is an awesome name—"

"Cisco," Caitlin interrupted.

"Sorry," Cisco replied. "Well, anyway, they trained her, which included a mega dose of brainwashing." He clicked on a video file, opening it; the sound had been muted, but the group didn't need volume to understand what they were watching: a young Claire bound to a chair, with all kinds of wires and devices hooked to her, while a younger Kurt slowly circled her, talking to her; after a few seconds, he made a motion with his hand, and Claire suddenly convulsed, and everyone could tell she was being electrocuted.

"He tortured her," Linda growled softly. "She was a little girl, and he tortured her for years like it was nothing." A loud sound, like a cross between nails on a chalkboard and a torrential downpour, echoed loudly through the lab. Everyone looked over just in time to see the glass wall between the main area and the medical wing shatter, thousands of shards of glass falling to the floor and scattering; no one spoke, staring in stunned silence.

"What just happened?" Caitlin slowly asked after a few moments.

"Sorry," Linda said softly, and the young girl had to fight the urge to bolt when they looked over at her; she knew they had realized exactly what had happened. "Look, it was an accident; I'll pay for the damages."

"Thanks, but why the sudden freakout?" Cisco asked concerned.

"It's nothing," Linda answered.

"That was a pretty big reaction for 'nothing,'" Robbie gently pointed out.

"I said I'll pay for the damages, okay?" Linda snapped. "Can we just drop it?" She glanced between her new friends and saw their startled expressions; she sighed, calming down as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry…none of you deserved that." She shrugged. "Look, I know this might sound really stupid, but I really understand where Claire's coming from."

"That's no surprise, my dear," Stein replied. "You're both young girls with extraordinary abilities."

"No," Linda said, shaking her head, "I meant, I understand where she's coming from…because I used to be there." She glanced between the group, and she wasn't surprised to see their confused expressions. "I know I said yesterday I came to Earth because it wasn't safe for me where I came from, but there's more to it." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It wasn't safe for me, because…because my parents were trying to kill me." She slowly looked around and saw their stunned expressions and felt the awkwardness radiating from most of them, something she'd gotten used to every time she'd told her story, and she sighed.

"I didn't tell you that because I wanted your pity or to make you feel uncomfortable," she continued. "I get most of you probably had great childhoods," she glanced briefly at Cisco. "I just wanted you to know why I can't let this go."

"Commendable," Stein replied, "and please don't take offense at this, but what are you planning on doing, exactly, when you find her?"

Linda shrugged. "Wing it?" she asked.

"Yeah, something tells me your cousin and adoptive family would object to that plan," Caitlin said.

"Yeah, well, they're pretty cool about letting me do my own thing," Linda lied, trying to sound casual, "and if I could get an address for this Cadmus place, I'll just be on my way."

"Try again," Ronnie replied, folding his arms.

"Huh?" Linda asked.

Ronnie shrugged. "Look, I don't know your family that well," he said, "but from what I saw yesterday, there is no way they'd let you do something like this on your own."

Linda glanced between the adults, who looked at her with various degrees of expectation, and she had to calm herself; she racked her brain for a few moments before sighing. "You're right," she said, "they wouldn't—if I was doing this myself—but I'm not. I told Clark about what was going on, and he said I could come here and get information while he started looking for Claire; once I got what we needed, I was going to let him know, so he could go get Claire." Her eyes darted back and forth between the four, trying to appear casual.

"Well, then let's get you a location," Cisco replied suddenly as he went back to typing. Within a few seconds, he'd pulled up a map, a red dot blinking in the center. "Okay, traced the signal to an abandoned building a few miles north of Metropolis."

Linda leaned over and stared at the screen, sighing; the last place she wanted it to be was closer to her cousin. "Great," she muttered, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Something wrong?" Stein asked.

"Nope, nothing wrong," Linda replied as she stood up. "Well,, I better get going so I can tell Clark where Claire probably is. Thank you for your help, all of you; I—I mean, Clark and I—owe you big." She smiled and casually made her way toward the exit. "I'll see you later, and tell Barry I said hi—the next time you see him, I mean; you don't have to call him or anything." She turned and quickly walked down the corridor, heading for the elevator.

"Hey, Linda, wait a second."

Linda was halfway down the corridor when she heard the familiar voice and felt a hand touch her shoulder. "Yes, Cisco?" she asked, smiling as she turned around. Her smile faded when she saw Cisco standing in front of her, looking shocked as he gently rubbed his left temple with his hand. "Cisco, are you okay?"

Cisco met her gaze, like he was coming out of a stupor. "Uh, yeah," he said slowly. Linda didn't look convinced, and the young man cleared his throat, smiling a little. "I'm fine, really."

"So, what do you want, Cisco?" Linda asked.

"Look, just…be careful, okay?" Cisco said.

Linda smiled. "I'll be fine," she replied before blurring away, leaving the young man alone.

(End of Chapter 10)


	11. Chapter 11

Linda crouched low behind some bushes, carefully peering at the relatively unassuming metal structure; it had taken her less than a minute to get to the location seen on Cisco's computer, but almost five minutes to completely survey the immediate location. The building itself appeared as nothing more than a metal building (lead-lined, Linda had confirmed after trying to x-ray the place) a third the length of a football field and only about twenty feet wide. A few unmarked vehicles—similar to the ones Linda had seen in Smallville—were parked outside around it, and the entire facility was surrounded by a high chain-link fence with barbed wire, the only way in or out guarded by a small wooden shack—and a small army of suited men posted in different locations.

"See anything interesting?" Linda whirled around to see Jimmy and Gar approaching quickly, crouched low, as they joined her.

"Where did you guys come from?" Linda asked, confused.

"Smallville," Gar replied, "where you **left** us."

"Sorry," Linda said sincerely, "but I **had** to go to Central City."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, I wasn't completely right about a connection," Linda answered, "but I **did** find out the girl's name is Claire Selton, she was kidnapped by that agent we saw in Smallville when she was a little girl, **and** I was able to get an address." She paused, furrowing her eyebrows. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Jimmy reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone. "Triangulated your position with your GPS signal," he replied. "Tracked your movements from Central City, followed you here."

"So, you're tracking me, too?" Linda asked, slightly annoyed, as she grabbed her phone and put it back in her pocket. "I didn't think the League had any openings available." She saw the hurt expression on Jimmy's face and sighed. "Sorry...I didn't mean that."

"I know," Jimmy replied, a little hurt, but understanding; if the situation was reversed, he'd probably have snapped, too.

"So, how did you get here?" Linda continued, glancing at Gar.

" _Argentavis_ ," Gar replied proudly. Linda just stared at him, and Gar sighed, rolling his eyes. "Large extinct flying bird; carried Jimmy here as soon as he figured where you were going."

"And I'm sure no one saw you," Linda replied sarcastically.

"Surprisingly enough," Jimmy replied, "nope—or they didn't care—which is how we were able to get here so quickly."

"So can't wait for my hearing to come in," Linda muttered. "I'm getting a little tired of people sneaking up on me."

"I could still do that as an owl," Gar pointed out, "as they are **literally** silent flyers," Linda raised an eyebrow, "and that's a moot point right now." He stared at the facility. "So, what've you found?"

"Not much, except that the place has a **lot** of guards," Linda answered. "I've been trying to find to find a way in, but I'm not having much luck seeing in; the entire place is line with—"

"Lead, yeah, we know," Jimmy interrupted. Linda looked at him, confused. "That's why we're here: I did a little more digging around on Cadmus' site, trying to find out who was running it."

"What did you find?" Linda asked.

"Not much," Jimmy replied. "All I could find out is that it **appears** to be privately-owned and funded."

"Any idea who the owner is?" Linda asked.

"Not a clue," Jimmy replied. "There are quite a few people who have the resources to fund something like this," he gave her a knowing look, "and we know **three** of them."

"Please tell me you don't suspect Ollie and Bruce," Linda gave him a withered expression.

"Of course not," Jimmy replied, almost insulted. "I may not like them much—Bruce the least—but I **do** know they'd **never** be involved in stuff like that."

"Then who's the third one?" Linda asked. Jimmy just gave her a look, and Linda immediately understood; she sighed. "Lex."

"Yeah, old Baldy himself," Gar replied.

Linda sighed. "Look," she said, "you guys need to get out of here; I can do this myself."

"Yeah, not happening," Jimmy replied. Linda opened her mouth, but Jimmy stopped her. "Look, we're not letting you go in there by yourself, Linda—especially if Lex could be involved; we either go with you—or your parents will know what's going on."

Linda glared at him, annoyed, knowing full well Jimmy would make good on his threat. "Fine," she said curtly before looking back at the facility, doing some quick mental calculations. "Okay, we have to get past twenty guards unnoticed. I could telepathically knock them out."

"You ever try that before?" Gar asked, intrigued.

"Nope," Linda replied, "but you have any other ideas?"

"Follow me," Gar grinned before quickly changing into a large black raven; he flew off toward the building, easily soaring over the fence. Jimmy and Linda quickly made their way over an area of the fence and ducked behind a few bushes, watching as the black bird hovered unnoticed above a group of guards near the door.

"What is he doing?" Linda whispered, confused.

The guards suddenly shouted and covered their heads with their arms, hurrying away as if to look for shelter; the raven continued following them, cawing loudly, and the two teenagers finally noticed the large white splotches on the men's suits, hair, and face.

"Is he doing what I think he's doing?" Linda asked, her face contorting.

"Yep," Jimmy replied, grinning.

"That is **disgusting** ," Linda hissed.

" **That** is a distraction," Jimmy corrected, noticing the unguarded door, "and it's working, so get us inside."

Linda rolled her eyes, but she sighed and focused on the gate; a split second later, the fence in front of them easily pulled snapped and rolled back from the top all the way down to the bottom, almost as if a pair of invisible hands were responsible; without saying a word, Linda picked up Jimmy and blurred through the opening and over to the door. Linda quickly put Jimmy down before she grabbed the doorknob and yanked it off, tossing it aside and pulling the door open; she stood aside to let Jimmy in, then looked over her shoulder at the raven high in the sky.

 _[Gar, we're inside!]_

The raven suddenly cawed loudly before changing direction and flying quickly over, zooming down toward the young girl; about ten feet from the ground, the animal instantly morphed back into Gar, who expertly landed on his feet, crouching briefly before standing upright.

"I cannot believe you did that," Linda said as he brushed past her and hurried inside; she quickly followed. "Whatever happened to being subtle?" The two teenagers stopped short, almost bumping into Jimmy, who stared straight ahead.

The interior of the building was different that Linda had expected: a floor made of glossy glossy black tiles, the walls and ceiling stark white and bare. At the far end were a set of elevator doors and a security keypad—surrounded by five armed guards with their weapons pointed at the trio.

"Hands in the air," one of the guards growled. Suddenly, all five guards flew backward through the air; they slammed into the far wall and crumpled to the floor, unconscious, their weapons scattering.

"Come on," Linda said before hurrying toward the elevator; Jimmy and Gar glanced at each other briefly before following. They stopped in front of the elevator doors and stared at the keypad.

"So, any ideas on how to get in?" Gar asked. Linda didn't say anything as she walked over to the doors and gripped them with her fingers, easily pulling them apart before walking in and turning around.

"Going down?" the young girl asked, slightly smug.

"Perhaps **you** should look up the definition of 'subtle,'" Gar smirked as he and Jimmy joined her; they looked at the interior buttons, labeled from L1 to L10. "So, any idea which floor to go to?" Both teenagers glanced at Linda and saw her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowed. "Linda?"

"I'm looking for Claire," Linda replied quietly. After a few moments, she gave a brief shout and grabbed the sides of her head as she collapsed to her knees, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Linda!" Jimmy quickly knelt beside his friend. "What happened?"

"I found her," Linda said quietly as she opened her eyes, her breathing ragged. "She's on 6, and she's scared—really scared." Gar pressed the L6 button, and the elevator started down.

"So, what was that?" Jimmy asked as he helped Linda to her feet.

"Just wasn't ready for that much emotion at once," Linda answered; she glanced over and saw Jimmy's unconvinced expression. "Jimmy, I'm fine, really." The elevator stopped a short time later, and the teenagers tensed as the doors slowly opened to reveal a long and dimly-lit corridor with four doors on both sides—each guarded by what appeared to be a black, oblong-shaped robot about four feet in height, with three black legs and a single red lens in the middle of its chassis.

"Is it me or do those things remind you of _Portal_?" Gar asked. The four robots suddenly turned toward the trio, emitting red lasers from their lenses.

" _Scan reveals unidentified subjects in restricted area_ ," a mechanized voice emanated from one of the robots. The sides of all four robots' chassis opened horizontally, each revealing two gatling guns aimed right at the teenagers.

Gar paled and swallowed. "Uh, yeah, **definitely** like _Portal_ ," he said nervously, but before he and Jimmy could even blink, Linda zoomed forward. In less than a second, all four robots and been disabled and dismantled, crumpled and mangled parts scattered from three of the robots all over the floor—and Linda with two halves of the fourth robot in her hands, a determined expression on her face.

"Yeah, but who needs Chell when we got Linda," Jimmy added, smiling, impressed.

"Have no idea what you two are talking about," Linda said after dropping the halves, "but you can tell me later." She walked over to one of the doors. "Claire's in here."

"How do you know that?" Jimmy asked as he and Gar hurried over, gingerly stepping over the mangled metal.

Linda nodded at the door, and both Gar and Jimmy saw 'Volcana' on a nameplate in the middle of the door. "That's the codename Cadmus gave her," she said before grabbing the knob and opening the door; the three of them looked in, and Linda inhaled sharply.

The room was dimly-lit and filled with all kinds of lab equipment and devices; in the center of the room, strapped to a metal table, was Claire. She wore a pair of white hospital pants and matching scrubs top, and her eyes were closed, almost like she was sleeping. The teenagers hurried over to her, Linda reaching her before the others.

"Claire, can you hear me?" the young girl asked.

Claire moaned softly and slowly opened her eyes, looking around as if in a daze; her gaze settled on Linda. "You," she said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to rescue you," Linda said gently.

"No one can save me," Claire replied, turning her head. Linda easily broke the straps, and Claire looked at the broken strap, then up at Linda with a stunned expression. "How did you do that?"

"I eat my vegetables," Linda replied as she helped Claire into a sitting position. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so," Claire said uncertainly, but she carefully swung her feet around and put them on the floor; she hesitated, then slowly stood up, shifting her weight. The young girl swayed softly, feeling lightheaded, and gripped the table.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Claire said softly, taking a deep breath and standing taller. "Let's get out of here."

"I don't think so." The group of four turned to see Kurt standing just inside the door, aiming a gun at them, glaring at them. "You're not leaving this place again, Claire—and neither are your new friends."

(End of Chapter 11)


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt stared at the four teenagers, smirking ever so slightly. "You know," he said, "my boss was going to have my head for all the trouble Claire's caused, but I'm betting he'll be a little more forgiving when I hand you three over to him as well."

"Why, so he can experiment on us?" Jimmy asked. "Hate to break it to your boss—we don't have powers."

"Maybe, maybe not," Kurt answered, "but he's **definitely** not a fan of journalists who stick their noses where they don't belong—or photographers, for that matter." He watched as Linda and Gar glanced briefly at Jimmy, who looked a little surprised. "My boss makes it a point to know about any potential 'threats' to his operations—which includes you and your friends at the Daily Planet. I'm sure he'd also be interested in how you three managed to both get past the armed security team upstairs **and** completely pulverize four sentry robots," he turned his focus to Linda and Gar, "without a scratch on any of you."

"What makes you think it was either of them, meathead?" Jimmy demanded. "For all you know, I could have done all that myself."

"Yes, and all the times Superman had to save your skinny hide was just a ruse," Kurt replied in a condescending tone before looking back at Gar and Linda. "So, which one of you is my saving grace?"

Linda felt her blood boiling as she stared at the agent; everything about him reeked of her father, and she narrowed her eyes as she removed her glasses. "Up yours," she said before her eyes flashed a deep orange. Heat beams blasted from her eyes; almost immediately, the gun barrel turned to slag.

Kurt quickly dropped the weapon, his hand burning; he stared down at the semi-melted gun in shock, then slowly looked up at the young girl, stunned. "You have heat vision," he said softly.

Linda blurred over and grabbed Kurt around the neck with one hand, easily hoisting him off the ground. "I have much more than that," she growled as she held him tightly, his feet dangling.

[Linda, put him down.]

Linda didn't even avert her gaze from the agent. [He kidnapped and experimented on Claire, Jimmy. He needs to pay for that.]

[Not like this.]

[Why not? I wanted to kill my father—and this jerk is no better than he was.] Linda felt his hand on her shoulder.

[Because that's not you.] Linda gritted her teeth; knew he was right—which slightly annoyed her—and she took a deep breath and let it out before slowly lowering the agent. [Thank you.]

"You're just letting him go?" Everyone looked over and saw Claire staring at Linda in disbelief.

"We're not letting him go," Jimmy reassured her. "He'll be arrested."

"Yeah, like that's going to work," Claire snorted. "He'll just be released and come after me again—not to mention he's seen what she," she glanced at Linda, "can do." She shook her head before her hands were engulfed in flames. "There's only one way to make sure we're all safe."

Linda kept her eyes on Claire as she handed Jimmy her glasses and stepped toward the other girl, making sure her friends and Kurt were behind her. "You can't kill him, Claire," she said.

" **You** wanted to," Claire retorted, "I saw the look in your eyes."

"Yes, and I was wrong," Linda said. "Look, I understand how you feel, believe me, but you—"

"You have no idea how I feel!" Claire interrupted, the flames glowing brighter. "That man took my life away from me," she raised her hands, "and I'm taking his!" She thrust her hands toward Linda, sending two huge fireballs at the group.

Linda's eyes widened as she raised her arms, palms out, placing an invisible shield up. The flames hit the protective barrier and bounced back at Claire, hitting her square in the face; the young girl stumbled a bit and fell to the floor, groaning, slightly stunned.

"Guys, take Kurt and get out of here," Linda said, keeping her attention of Claire.

"I think he's already thought of that," Gar replied.

Linda looked over her shoulder and saw Jimmy and Gar standing behind her—but no Kurt. "Where'd he go?" she asked.

"Probably bolted while you and Claire were fighting," Jimmy answered.

Linda closed her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating; after a few moments, she opened them. "He's heading for the elevator," she said before looking at Jimmy and Gar. "You have to stop him."

"On it," Gar replied before morphing into a large fox; he hurried out of the door and disappeared into the corridor.

"Jimmy, go," Linda insisted.

"I'm not leaving you," Jimmy replied.

"And I'm not leaving until I talk some sense into Claire," Linda retorted.

"She's trying to kill you," Jimmy pointed out. "You think you can talk **any** sense into her?"

"I don't know," Linda answered, "but I have to at least try."

"And if she won't listen?" Jimmy asked.

Linda shrugged. "I'll be fine," she replied as she saw Clair slowly sitting up, "now go." Jimmy hesitated but he sighed and nodded before leaving, following after Gar. Linda turned her attention back to Claire as the other girl got to her feet.

"Where's Kurt?" Claire demanded, glaring at Linda.

"I don't know," Linda answered, "but my friends—" She didn't get a chance to finish her explanation as Claire fired a rapid volley of fireballs at the teenage girl; Linda braced herself as she quickly took a deep breath and exhaled. The cold air quickly spread outward like a gust from a hurricane, extinguishing the flames and smashing lab equipment; sparks flew from electrical devices, while glass vials and beakers shattered, spilling liquid all over the floor.

"Who the hell are you?" Claire asked in disbelief.

"I'm your friend," Linda replied, trying to look as unintimidating as possible. "Please, let me help you."

"I don't need your help!" Claire shouted as her body was engulfed in flames. At the last second, Linda noticed the odd-colored puddle at Claire's feet, and her eyes widened as Claire's flames reached the floor and ignited the liquid.

Linda's entire world shifted into super-slow mode as a tiny dot signaled the volatile reaction beginning, remaining frozen. The young girl bolted from the room into the corridor, heading for the elevator, seeing both Jimmy and Gar-as-a-fox standing near the doors. The young girl telekinetically blasted a hole in the closed doors and roof of the elevator car before she even took five steps; she didn't even slow down as she easily grabbed her friends—holding them like footballs tucked under her arms—before rushing into the damaged elevator. Linda held her friends securely as she crouched low and pushed off, leaping high into the air, counting the numbers on the walls as she passed them. When she saw the number one approaching, she telekinetically blasted an opening in the closed elevator doors; still holding her friends, she focused and strained to curve her trajectory, easily passing through the newly-created hole. Landing effortlessly on her feet, Linda didn't stop as she blurred down the empty corridor toward the open door at the end; she raced through, speeding away from the facility and stopping in her original hiding spot. She placed Jimmy and Gar on their feet as a large and explosive fireball engulfed the building.

"You guys okay?" Linda asked as the trio watched the facility burning.

Gar quickly morphed back to his normal self. "Yeah," he replied slowly, glancing around, stunned. "What the…weren't we just **in** the building?"

"I got us out," Linda answered simply.

"Nice footwork," Gar commented lamely, staring at the fire.

"Thanks," Linda said. "I don't think I've ever moved that fast before." She rubbed her right temple as she felt slightly dizzy, her legs a bit shaky.

"Linda?" Jimmy asked, concerned, as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Linda replied dismissively, waving her hand. "Just a little dizzy."

"Yeah, that's not fine," Jimmy gently pointed out, "especially not for you."

"I get my powers from the sun," Linda said, "and I just pushed myself further than I've ever done." She took a deep breath as the dizziness passed and she stood taller. "See? I've already recharged; I'm fine." Jimmy didn't look convinced, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Where's Claire?" Gar asked suddenly.

Linda's countenance fell a bit. "She didn't make it," she said softly. Her friends appeared sympathetic but didn't press the issue further. "What about Kurt?"

Gar shook his head. "Don't know," he said apologetically. "By the time we got out into the hall, he'd disappeared." He watched as Linda closed her eyes and put her hands on her temples, concentrating. "Linda?"

After a few moments, Linda opened her eyes. "I can't sense him," she replied. "I don't think he made it out."

"Linda, he saw what you did," Jimmy said. "Are you sure?"

"If he was still alive, I'd be able to sense him, Jimmy," Linda replied harshly. Jimmy actually leaned back slightly, startled by her outburst, and the young girl sighed, her expression softening. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jimmy said. He saw her staring at the flames with a look of shame on her face, and he sighed as he put an arm around her shoulders. "You did everything you could."

"I know," Linda replied softly as she reflexively leaned against him.

"Maybe we should go before the police show up," Gar suggested. Linda glanced at him and nodded, and the three friends turned and walked away.

(End of Chapter 12)


	13. Chapter 13

Linda numbly stared out her bedroom window, not really focusing on any one object, absentmindedly rubbing Streaky's back as the kitten purred softly in her arms, while Krypto lounged on her bed. It had been over two hours since she and her friends had arrived back at the farm—with Jonathan and Martha in the living room watching WGBS' coverage of the explosion as Superman and local fire authorities worked together to bring it under control; none of the teenagers needed telepathy to know the adults knew they had been involved. After making sure all three of them were physically okay, Linda tried to take the blame for everything—from the confrontation on Main Street to running off to Central City, ending with everything that had happened at the facility (leaving out the part about Kurt seeing Linda use her powers); Jimmy and Gar jumped in with the stuff they had been responsible for (and Jimmy ignored Linda's had told the Kents about Linda's little dizzy spell, ignoring the frown Linda gave him.)

By the time everyone had confessed, Jonathan and Martha were clearly upset by the entire situation, but didn't blow up as the teenagers had expected. They simply sent Gar home and Jonathan took Jimmy out to take care of the chores, while Martha escorted Linda to her room, helped her change into a pair of sweatpants and tanktop, and tucked her in bed to get some rest; Streaky and Krypto came in to keep her company, nuzzling close to their mistress. Linda spent an hour trying to actually rest, but she had so much on her mind that she knew resting would be pointless.

"Hey, Short Stack."

For as nervous as she had felt, knowing she was going to have to talk to Clark eventually, Linda felt strangely calm hearing her cousin's soft tone. She slowly looked over and saw Clark leaning against the open doorframe, arms crossed: he wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and work boots, and his glasses hung from his shirt pocket.

"Hey, Clark," she replied softly before looking back out the window.

"So," Clark said slowly as he walked over, "Mom and Dad filled me in on what happened," Linda inwardly braced herself, "and I was wondering if you wanted to talk."

"Does this 'talk' involve a lecture?" Linda asked.

"No," Clark replied, "I have a feeling Mom and Dad did that already." He stared at her as she continued looking at the window. "How are you holding up?"

Linda shrugged. "Okay, I guess," she replied. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "How many people died?"

"Not as many as there could have been," Clark answered. "From what I was able to overhear, most of the personnel was already outside dealing with a security issue involving a raven—which **had** to be Gar."

"How many?" Linda gently pressed.

"Two," Clark answered. "One of the bodies was in a room on Level 6; the authorities are still trying to identify the remains, but they said it appears to be a teenage girl…I'm assuming that would be Claire."

Linda nodded. "And the other?" she asked.

"Found in a vent off the main hall on the same level," Clark replied. "Badly burned and hardly recognizable, but there was identification on the body; the person was Kurt Jordan."

Even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way, Linda inwardly sighed with relief. "Okay," she simply said.

Clark noticed the slight shift in Linda's eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Mom and Dad told me that he'd been the one chasing Claire and that she'd tried to kill him—and that you tried to stop her—but that's all they told me. You wanna tell me what **really** happened?"

"You don't believe me?" Linda asked. Clark raised an eyebrow, and the young girl sighed. "Look, everything I told Mom and Dad was true—Claire and I fought because she was trying to kill Kurt….but I kinda left out the part where I almost killed him myself." She glanced over, expecting to see a shocked expression on her cousin's face, but he just looked at her with a gentleness in his eyes that showed no judgment. "You're not surprised?"

"Given everything you've been through," Clark simply replied, "why should I be?"

"Because we're supposed to be above that?" Linda suggested with a slight sarcastic tone. "You know, 'control our emotions' and all that stuff."

"And you did," Clark replied. Linda snorted slightly. "You didn't kill him."

"Only because Jimmy talked me out of it," Linda muttered.

Clark sighed. "Linda, if you really wanted to kill Kurt," he said, "nothing would have been able to stop you—not even Jimmy; the only thing that prevented you from killing that man was **you** choosing to believe that killing him was wrong." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Just remember: you **always** have a choice."

"It doesn't always feel like it," Linda said softly. "I feel like a prisoner here, sometimes.

"Despite running off to Central City after being told to stay in Smallville?" Clark asked, amused. Linda felt her cheeks grow warm, and she balanced Streaky in one arm before nervously brushing a loose strand behind her ear. "Barry came by and helped me put the fire out," Linda raised an eyebrow, "as the Flash—don't worry—and he was nice enough to tell me what had happened after you showed up at S.T.A.R. Labs."

"How?" Linda asked, confused. "I thought I covered my tracks pretty well."

"Well, apparently, Cisco knew you were lying through your teeth," Clark replied.

"Why didn't he say anything?" Linda asked, surprised.

Clark shrugged. "Barry said it had something to do with what you said about your father," he said.

"I just wanted them to know why finding Claire was so important to me," Linda replied. "I wasn't lying about that," she shrugged, "though I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I should have just listened to everyone and stayed out of the whole thing to begin with."

"Why do you say that?" Clark asked. "You wanted to help Claire."

"And now she's dead," Linda said, looking up at her cousin with tears in her eyes. "I wasn't good enough to save her."

"That's not true," Clark said as he gently extracted Streaky from Linda's arms and put the cat down before enveloping the young girl in a hug. "Linda, I'm confident you did **everything** possible to save her."

"I panicked," Linda replied, leaning against him. "When she ignited the liquid, the first thing I thought of was getting Jimmy and Gar to safety."

"And I would have done the same thing," Clark said seriously. He could tell Linda didn't look convinced, and he sighed. "Linda, for all the things that we can do, we do have our limitations…and sometimes—whether we like it or not—we're just not fast enough."

"Barry would've been fast enough," Linda muttered.

"Maybe," Clark replied, "maybe not, but…can I give you my honest opinion?" He felt Linda nod her affirmation. "From what you've told everyone, I'm not sure if Claire really wanted to be saved."

Linda pulled back and looked up at him in confusion. "She was scared, Clark," she said. "I saw the fear in her eyes; she didn't want to be there."

"And maybe she thought the only way to really be free was to end her life," Clark suggested. "I know it sounds horrible, but I've seen too many people lose all the hope in their lives."

"Isn't that what our family crest is supposed to give them?" Linda asked.

Clark smiled sadly. "Sweetie, sometimes even that isn't enough." Linda looked troubled, but she simply hugged her cousin tightly, leaning against him; the reporter held her close and rested his cheek on her head.

* * *

Kurt stood in the middle of a small room, a small hanging fixture providing the only light for the room; he stared straight in front of him, the soft sound of someone pacing slowly behind him echoing loudly. The agent's clothes were singed and burned in some areas, his face had a few smudges of soot on it, his hair disheveled, and he felt exhausted, but he didn't dare show any sign of weakness or fatigue.

"You want to explain to me what happened?"

Kurt swallowed ever so slightly as Lex's voice resonated through the room. "Well, sir," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady, "to be honest, I'm not really sure how the building exploded, but I'm sure Claire had something to do with it."

"I'm talking about the entire project, Kurt," Lex said, his voice rising a decibel. "When you came to me years ago with your proposal about Project Firestorm, I was intrigued because it showed promise—and because I was able to keep it and my other projects out of the public eye. Now, in two days, you not only manage to lose the main test subject, but you end up causing a public confrontation in the middle of downtown Smallville—which ends up on the front page of the Daily Planet—you also manage to get the entire facility on the evening news after blowing it up."

"Sir, I know you're upset by what happened," Kurt said, "and I take full responsibility for what happened in Smallville, but the explosion at the facility was Claire's fault—and before you ask why she wasn't contained, well, three people broke into the facility to save her."

"They must have been highly-skilled bird trainers," Lex said with a tone of heavy sarcasm; he inwardly smiled as Kurt's face faltered slightly. "Yes, Kurt, your men told me about the incident with the bird; pathetic that a bunch of highly-trained men can't handle something simple as bird droppings."

"Sir, I know you're upset," Kurt replied nervously, "but I really think that you'd be very interested in one of the people who broke in."

"Really?" Lex asked, annoyed, but curious.

Kurt nodded, feeling a little less tense; he could see the flicker of interest in the businessman's eyes. "Yes, sir," he replied, a bit more confident, "and the security cameras were up and running the whole time—and stored on a backup server, just in case; I think you'll be very pleased by what you see."

Lex stared at the agent for a second before slowly smiling. "Thank you for your service, Kurt; your contributions to my research have been invaluable."

"Thank you, sir," Kurt replied, smiling. "I've always felt that—"

"Unfortunately, your recklessness has made you a liability," Lex interrupted, "and I'm going to have to let you go." Kurt's smile faded and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lex swiftly pulled a gun from under his jacket and aimed it right between the agent's eyes, pulling the trigger without a single hesitation. The wall behind Kurt was instantly spattered with blood and tissue, and the agent crumpled to the ground, dead before his body hit the cold floor. Lex calmly put the smoking gun back in under his jacket and straightened the rumples. "Consider that your two week's notice." The door to the room suddenly opened, and a couple of armed guards came in with their weapons drawn. "See that the body is properly disposed of and this room thoroughly disinfected."

"Yes, sir," one of the guards said as both men put their guns back in their holsters and left.

Lex pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number; he waited a couple of seconds before the person on the other end picked up. "Mercy, call General Eiling and inform him that a position has opened up on my team, if he's still interested."

"Yes, sir," Mercy answered on the other end.

"And have security get a copy of all the footage from the Metropolis facility sent to me," Lex replied.

"Right away," Mercy replied before Lex hung up.

Lex put his phone away and stepped over the dead body, making his way out of the room, shutting the door behind him; his phone suddenly rang, and the businessman pulled it out again, answering it on the third ring. "What?"

"Sir, there might be a problem with the security footage," Mercy said.

"How so?" Lex asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Someone hacked the video system before the explosion," the Mercy explained.

"Let me guess," Lex said, annoyed as he walked down the hall, "they downloaded the video and erased it on our server."

"Not exactly, sir," Mercy replied. "Whoever did it downloaded something, but the video for the facility is still there…only it's showing a looped feed for the hour leading up to the explosion."

"And they know it's looped, because?" Lex asked.

"Because it shows the men standing guard in the same position for sixty minutes," Mercy replied, "including one of them picking his nose for an hour."

Lex clenched his jaw. "Was anything else taken?"

"Not that they're aware of," Mercy answered. She heard nothing. "Lex?"

"Tell them they better find out who did it or heads will roll," Lex finally replied, his voice laced with deadly anger. He didn't wait for a response as he angrily threw his phone against the wall; it smashed into several pieces and fell to the floor. The businessman stared at the remains of his phone for a few moments before storming off.

(End of Chapter 13)


	14. Chapter 14

A few hours later, Linda leaned back against the couch, her feet resting on the foot locker. She had an open notebook propped on her thighs, with words scribbled down the center; some of the words were circled, with lines leading to notes in the margins. Linda just stared at the writing, absently tapping a pencil against the metal spiral.

"You know, you missed a great dinner."

Linda looked up and saw Jimmy standing near the loft steps. "I said I wasn't hungry," she replied simply before looking back at her notebook.

"Was it really that," Jimmy asked as he came over and sat beside Linda, eying the spiral, "or are you still mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Linda asked, confused.

"Because I told your parents you got dizzy earlier," Jimmy replied.

"Well, I wasn't happy," Linda admitted, "but I wasn't mad, either."

Jimmy sighed with relief. "So, you doing okay?"

Linda shrugged. "I guess," she replied. "I mean, I know Clark said I shouldn't blame myself for Claire's death, but…."

"But you still feel like there was something you could have done?" Jimmy asked. Linda nodded, and Jimmy sighed. "Look, I'm gonna go out on a clichéd branch here, but I **know** you did everything you possibly could."

Linda smiled a little. "Thanks," she replied.

Jimmy smiled back, then he indicated the notebook. "So, what are you working on?"

Linda took a deep breath. "Well," she said slowly, "you remember when we were in the cave and discovered that hidden chamber?"

"After you got zapped by the wall?" Jimmy asked, looking a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, I remember that—all too well."

"Do you remember what you were going to tell me you found about the connection between and China?"

Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows. "Why are you bringing that up now?"

"Can you just tell me what you found," Linda said. "Please?"

Jimmy stared at her for a moment, then he sighed as he leaned back and folded his arms. "Well, uh," he said slowly, "from what I remember, it had something to do with pyramids."

"'Pyramids'?" Linda asked, intrigued. "In China?"

"Yep," Jimmy replied. "I mean, they're not as well-known as the ones in Egypt, but there's a group of them in the Shansi Province. They're made of clay, and more rounded—they actually blend into the natural landscape really well, and no one can figure out how they were made—but archeologists say they're over four thousand years old; some people estimate they're even older."

"How older?" Linda asked.

" **Way** older," Jimmy asked. "There were these two Australian traders in nineteen twelve who met a Buddhist monk who told them that the five thousand year old records of that monk's monastery said the pyramids were 'very old,' so who knows how old they really are? Now, what's even **more** interesting is one pyramid there is twice as large as the Great Pyramid of Giza, but no one can figure out how to get in any of them to do any research. Oh, and near the pyramids were lots of graves filled with skeletons—whose DNA was indentified as **not** human—along with fragments of kryptonite."

"So, let me get this straight," Linda said slowly. "There were lots of alien skeletons and kryptonite fragments found near some old Chinese pyramids?"

"Yep," Jimmy replied, "like Giza, but without the skeletons." He tilted his head when he saw Linda's expression; it was a mixture of shock, confusion, and even a slight hint of fear. "Linda, what is it?"

Linda handed him the notebook. "Read the part in the center," she said.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow and took the notebook; he read the words scrawled in the center of the page:

 _37 and 40, 94 and 102  
_ _Rule the flawed  
_ _Day is coming  
_ _Massive chronological event_ ** _  
_** _Rao made us  
_ _Gods among men_ ** _  
_** _Shansi Teotihuacan Giza Atlantis Urrika Wegthor  
_ _Nightwing and Flamebird  
_ _The time of sudden change is approaching_

Jimmy just stared at the words, clenching his jaw ever so slightly. "What is this?" Jimmy asked after a few seconds of silence.

"When the cave zapped me," Linda replied, "that Kryptonian/Latin _Ovid_ message wasn't the only thing I received."

Jimmy sat up straighter and looked at her, frowning. "And you didn't say anything back then for what reason?" he asked, his tone clearly filled with worried anger.

"I was hoping to figure out what it all meant," Linda answered timidly, "and I didn't want you freaking out like you're doing right now."

"Linda, aside from the Nightwing and Flamebird thing," Jimmy said, trying to remain calm, "which we will definitely talk about later—along with that other stuff—two things you've written down were locations were downloaded into your memory from an alien cave—and both have some kind of connection to Krypton."

"Actually, three," Linda said slowly.

Jimmy slowly looked at her. "You wanna run that by me again?" he asked.

Linda didn't say anything as she walked over to her desk and opened the top center drawer. She pulled out a long, thin box and closed the drawer before going back over and sitting in her original spot; she opened the top flaps of the box, and Jimmy saw a piece of rolled up parchment paper. Linda carefully removed the paper and gently unrolled it on the foot locker; Jimmy sucked in his breath as he stared down at the paper.

From the staining, The paper was dark and stained, from extreme age, but what really caught Jimmy's attention was a large inked Kryptonian symbol in the center. It appeared to be a diamond with a bar attached to one point and a dot attached to the opposite point; written around the symbol were smaller Kryptonian symbols.

"Where did you get this?" Jimmy asked, slightly stunned.

"Dick Grayson found it through a private seller," Linda answered.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked incredulously.

Linda nodded. "Someone claimed to have found it near Teotihuacán," she replied. "But no one could translate it, so the person put it on sale; Dick snagged it for forty thousand dollars."

Jimmy's eyes widened. "Forty…thousand…dollars?" he said slowly.

"Yep," Linda said. "Someone from Ireland was interested, but Dick was able to purchase it first."

"Not that I'm knocking his investigative skills," Jimmy replied, "but how did he manage to do that without Bruce or Alfred finding out?"

"I asked the same question when he brought it to the Christmas party," Linda replied, "and he simply said 'don't ask,' so I didn't."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Jimmy replied as he glanced back at the paper. "So, any idea what is it?"

"Well, this," Linda explained as she pointed to the larger symbol," is the Kryptonian symbol for 'land' or 'home,' depending on the context," she indicated the other symbols, "and this is the same as Swann's paper: 'Caeulum videre iussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.'"

"'He bid them look at the sky and lift their faces to the stars,'" Jimmy mumbled before taking a deep breath. "So, three Earth locations with Kryptonian stuff, downloaded into your brain by an alien cave…," he grabbed the spiral and looked at the words again, "and the only others are Atlantis, Wegthor, and Urrika." He paused and tilted his head. "Wait, you said Wegthor was one of Krypton's moons, right?"

"Yep," Linda replied, smiling a little, "good memory."

"And Urrika?"

"It was one of the two continents of Krypton," Linda replied. "One of my ancestors discovered it; the other—and largest of the continents—was Lurvan."

"Okay, so why mention them if they've been destroyed?" Jimmy asked, confused, "and what does Atlantis have to do with this? I mean, that's Aquaman's territory."

"Well, I think it actually makes sense," Linda replied, "considering."

"Considering what?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, I have a theory," Linda explained. "I've done some research and learned that in many cultures of Earth, there are four basic elements: earth, fire, wind, and water; Kryptonian culture used to have the same basic elements as part of its own culture."

"Okay," Jimmy said slowly, a little confused but willing to hear her out.

"And so far," Linda continued, "we have two objects on Earth that contain symbols of those elements—'fire' from Swann's paper and 'land'—which is interchangeable for 'earth'—from this parchment—both of which were mentioned in the writings downloaded into my memory."

"And you think the other two would be found in, where, Giza and Atlantis?" Jimmy asked.

Linda nodded. "It would make sense," she said. "The water element could be connected with Atlantis and Giza could be connected to the wind element."

"And I'm gonna take a guess and say we're still not going to tell Clark," Jimmy said, "or your parents."

"You think we should?" Linda asked.

Jimmy shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I mean, I think you should tell them about what else the cave downloaded into your brain," he saw Linda tense a bit, "but I can also tell that solving this is really important to you; if you want to wait…I won't say anything."

Linda smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said as she carefully rolled the paper up and put it back in the box.

Jimmy smiled a little as she took the box and got up. "So, you wanna tell me why we're not at least telling Clark?" he asked as she put the box back in the drawer she'd gotten it from. "I mean, it's Kryptonian stuff, and…," he shrugged as if to say 'he's also Kryptonian.'

"Clark's been raised as a human," Linda replied as she turned around and gently leaned against the desk. "I mean, I know our heritage is important to him, but…it just feels like this is **more** important to me—like I should be the one to figure this out." She glanced at Jimmy, uncertain. "Am I wrong?"

Jimmy took a deep breath and got up, walking over to her. "No," he said, "of course not. I get it, I really do."

Linda smiled gratefully and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. "Thanks."

Jimmy hugged her back, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "No problem," he said softly.

A soft creaking sound from the loft stairs jarred the teenagers from their stupor, and they quickly pulled away and looked over. Barry Allen stood near the top of the stairs, dressed in casual civilian clothes and winter wear; he appeared slightly embarrassed by his interruption.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets. Having first met Jimmy last year—and knowing that Jimmy knew his and his teammates' identities—he simply glanced at the photographer and briefly nodded; Jimmy nodded back but didn't say anything.

"I seriously can't wait until my hearing kicks in," Linda muttered softly to Jimmy, even as she smiled slightly; Jimmy gave her an amused expression but didn't say anything. The young girl took a deep breath as she glanced back at Barry. "Hey, Barry, what can I do for you?"

Barry glanced at Jimmy. "Could I talk with Linda for a moment?" he asked gently. "I won't be long, I promise." Jimmy glanced at Linda, who nodded.

"It's okay," she reassured him. She could tell Jimmy wanted to protest, but was thankful he nodded and made his way over to the stairs; she hid a smile as she saw him glance at Barry briefly before brushing past him and making his way down the stairs. She waited until Jimmy had left the barn before looking back at Barry; she took a deep breath. "So, who told you?"

(End of Chapter 14)


	15. Chapter 15

Barry tilted his head, a little confused. "Clark said he talked to you earlier," he said slowly.

"He did," Linda replied, "and I had my suspicions when we talked, but your expression just confirmed it: it was Cisco, wasn't it?" Barry nodded, and Linda took a deep breath. "So, I guess your friends are pretty mad at me for lying to them, huh?"

"Not mad," Barry said as he walked over, "just a little…disappointed."

"And you?" Linda asked cautiously.

"The same," Barry replied. He saw Linda's expression falter slightly as she lowered her gaze; he sighed. "They told me you told them the truth about your father, so I know why you lied to them, but do you understand why they're—we're—upset?"

"Because I'm just a kid?" Linda muttered with a hint of bitter in her voice.

"Yeah," Barry answered honestly. Linda looked at him with a betrayed expression, but Barry continued. "Linda, I know you've felt powerless all your life, and now that you have all these abilities, you want to help others—that's commendable, especially for someone your age—but you don't have to do that…not yet."

"Why not?" Linda asked, still a little hurt. "You were the one saying I deserved a chance—or was that just to placate me?"

"When I said you deserved a chance," Barry said gently, "I meant you deserved a chance for the League to get to know you before passing judgment; I never intended for you to take that as an invitation to run into top-secret buildings and confront federal agents."

"But if I have the ability to help people," Linda said, "why is everyone getting so upset with me for doing the right thing?"

"Because up until six months ago," Barry answered, "you've been Kara Zor-El of Krypton. You spent your entire life in a world dominated by darkness and fear and hate, yet you made the choice to not let it define you; you **chose** to rise above that and start a new life on a new planet as Linda Kent."

"And I've been doing that," Linda protested. "I mean, in six months I've learned so much about this planet and myself—and I know I want to help if I have the means to do so."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Barry replied, "and no one is telling you to stop helping others."

"It sure sounds like it," Linda retorted as she folded her arms and looked away from him.

Barry sighed. "Look," he said, "I didn't have my abilities when I was your age—"

"Or have weird visions or come from another planet," Linda interrupted.

"So, I can't really say I understand what you're going through," Barry calmly continued, "but I remember being your age and wanting to be an adult so I could be in control of my own life."

"And now you wish you could go back and do it all over again?" Linda asked.

"No," Barry answered, "not really." Linda looked back at him, a little surprised. "There are things I wish I **could** change—like saving my mom and getting my dad's name cleared," he shrugged, "and not being bullied—but for the most part, I enjoyed my childhood. I just want the same for you—and so do Clark and your parents," the corners of his mouth curled up a little, "and I'm sure Jimmy does, too." Linda raised an eyebrow, and she tried not to smile; Barry took a deep breath, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Look, if it's any consolation, I think you're going to make a great hero one day—when the time is right."

Linda stared up at him, and she sighed before smiling slightly. "Thanks," she replied. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Barry smiled. "Definitely," he replied. "You know, Cisco was really worried about you, especially when he saw the explosion."

"So, why did he wait so long to let you know?" Linda asked, genuinely confused. "Jimmy and Gar and I were there for some time, so Cisco must've waited a while before contacting you."

"He was keeping an eye on you," Barry answered. Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "He hacked into Cadmus' security systems and altered it so it would loop without showing you or your friends. Oh, and Cisco and the others wondered why a fox was in Cadmus, but I feigned knowing anything, and they seemed to buy it."

"So, I wasn't the only one lying to your friends, huh?" Linda teased, folding her arms, amused.

"If you're ever interested," Barry replied, smiling, "the original video's back at S.T.A.R. Labs if you ever want to check it out."

"I think that's going to have to wait a while," Linda replied. "I've kinda been sequestered to Smallville until the rest of my abilities come in," she shrugged, "but I have plenty to keep me busy with around here, so I guess it works out."

Barry heard the slightly deflated tone in her voice. "Well, I'm sure we can work something out," he replied. He paused, then slowly smiled, raising an eyebrow. "You're birthday's coming up soon, if I'm not mistaken…."

Linda furrowed her eyebrows, smiling. "What are you suggesting?" she asked.

Barry grinned, shrugging. "Oh, nothing," he replied, "and on that note, I will **definitely** be in touch."

Before Linda could say anything, Barry gave a quick wave before blurring down the stairs and out the barn in a burst of yellow lightning. The young girl stared in shock for a few moments, then she shook her head and sighed before walking normally down the loft stairs.

(End of Chapter 15)


	16. Chapter 16

Linda slowly opened her eyes and yawned, stretching and slowly smacking her lips. She turned on her side—careful not to disturb Streaky and Krypto as they slept at the foot of her bed—and glanced at her alarm clock; the glowing digital numbers read five thirty-seven. The young girl smiled and sighed before snuggling under the warm sheets, closing her eyes; a few moments later, Linda's eyes shot open as the realization hit her. She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, startling both Streak and Krypto and jumped out of bed, who protested with yelps and hisses.

"Sorry," Linda replied as she grabbed her glasses and put them on before blurring quietly out of the room. She headed downstairs and stopped in the living room, staring in awe at the sight before her.

Standing near the living room bay window was the Christmas tree Linda and her family had gotten and decorated a week ago. The lights strung in the branches bathed the homemade decorations in a soft white glow; the frost on the window panes almost seemed to twinkle, and Linda could see snowflakes falling slowly outside. Under the tree was a small pile of presents that hadn't been there the night before, and bright red stockings—stuffed full of goodies—hung in a row on the mantle over the unlit fireplace.

The young girl had so many things racing through her mind, but one stood out so much that she couldn't ignore it; she blurred back upstairs and returned with a sketchpad and pencil in her hands. Leaving the living room lights off, Linda settled herself onto the couch and crossed her legs; she flipped her sketchpad open and moved her pencil slowly across the page.

"You hungry, Short Stack?"

Linda paused, startled by the sound of her cousin's voice; she looked up and saw Clark—dressed in nice jeans and a hunter green button-down shirt. She furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "What are you doing here so early?" she asked, her voice low. "I thought you were coming around seven-thirty."

"It **is** seven-thirty," Clark pointed out.

Linda glanced back at the tree and raised an eyebrow; the sky was a brighter blue from the sunlight outside, and the young girl could see snow-covered objects. A roaring fire had been started in the fireplace, wood crackling softly. "Who started the fire?" she asked.

"I did," Clark replied, "and the chores have already been done." Linda looked confused, and Clark couldn't help but smile. "You were so wrapped up in your sketching that we didn't want to disturb you—not that you noticed anything—but since breakfast is almost ready…."

Linda just stared at him, still bewildered how she'd miss so much, but she sighed and got up, still clutching her sketchpad; she followed her cousin into the kitchen and saw her parents near the stove. Martha scrambled eggs in the skillet while Jonathan buttered slices of toast; both adults looked over and Clark and Linda came in.

"Ah, so you **were** able to pry her away from the tree," Jonathan joked as he finished the last of the toast. "I thought we were going to have to use a crowbar soon enough."

"Sorry," Linda replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Don't be," Jonathan replied as he walked over and kissed her forehead. "Merry Christmas, sweetie."

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Linda said, smiling before glancing at her mother, "Mom."

"Merry Christmas, honey," Martha replied, smiling as she transferred the eggs to a platter. "You haven't been up too long, have you?"

"Just since about five-thirty," Linda admitted. "I was a little excited, but I didn't peek at any of the presents—even though I **was** tempted."

"Wouldn't have been able to, anyway," Clark spoke up, smirking. "We wrapped them all in lead-lined paper."

Linda looked up at her cousin in shock, her mouth forming an 'o.' "You don't trust me?" she asked, smiling, feigning insult.

"Actually, Clark's the one who uses his x-ray vision in a manner that's inconsistent with the original manufacturer's intended use."

Linda stiffened when she heard the familiar voice, and she slowly looked toward the kitchen table. Jimmy sat in his usual spot at the table among the dishes and silverware already set for five people; he wore casual clothes and sipped coffee from a mug, smiling.

"Jimmy?" Linda asked, surprised.

"Yep, that's me," Jimmy replied as he put his mug down.

"What are you doing here?" Linda asked. "I thought you said you and your mom had plans."

"Well, we did," Jimmy answered as he put his mug down and stood up, heading toward her, "but criminals don't take Christmas off, so she had to fly out to D.C. yesterday. She suggested I spend Christmas with you guys, so long story short, Clark picked me up this morning on his way here."

"I'm surprised you didn't mention anything when you saw his stocking hanging up," Clark spoke up.

"It was?" Linda asked, confused. Clark nodded and motioned to her sketchpad. Linda looked at the drawing she'd been working on and raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, she had sketched seven stockings handing over the fireplace; Linda pursed her lips as she noticed Jimmy's stocking positioned after hers. "Wow…I didn't even notice that."

"You know," Clark teased, "for someone with as many different types of vision as you have, you're not very observant."

Linda briefly stuck her tongue out at her cousin then looked back at Jimmy. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "about your mom, I mean."

"It happens," Jimmy replied. "I mean, this isn't the first Christmas we haven't spent together, so I'm used to it." He shrugged, smiling. "Besides, it's your first Christmas; if I have to be away from Mom, there's no other place I'd rather be."

Linda felt her heart flutter a little, and she wordlessly hugged Jimmy, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

"No sweat," Jimmy whispered back. He glanced up and remembered that he and Linda weren't exactly alone. Feeling a little embarrassed, he quickly pulled away and looked at Linda; he was thankful she appeared just as embarrassed as she quickly brushed some hair from her face. "So, uh, nice pajamas." He closed his eyes as soon as he'd finished.

Linda glanced down at her clothes—red and green Tartan plaid pants, white short-sleeved shirt with large black dots arranged to look like a smiling snowman's face with a carrot nose; the young girl's eyes widened a little as her cheeks turned brighter red, and she suddenly blurred up the stairs. She returned two seconds later, wearing a pair of black jeans, a red shirt that says 'Christmas Rocks' in white letters, and green fuzzy socks; she'd styled her hair in a loose braid with a red bow in the back.

"There we go," she replied, smiling.

"Well, since we're all ready," Martha said as she and Jonathan came over, carrying platters filled with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and sausage, and homemade hash browns, "let's eat."

* * *

After breakfast, everyone gathered in the living room, including Krypto and Streaky. Clark, Jimmy, and Linda sat on the couch while Krypto sprawled on Jimmy's lap, and Streaky took up residence on Linda's. Martha took one of the rocking chairs and Jonathan—complete with a large Santa hat on his head—stood near the mantle, trying to look as authoritative as one could with a Santa hat on his head.

"Okay," Jonathan said, "since we're all here, let's deal with the stockings first of all." He gently extracted Martha's stocking, handing it to his wife, then did the same with the rest before taking his own and sitting in the other rocking chair. "Everyone, dig in."

While Krypto and Streaky received various treats, keeping them distracted, the human stockings contained a variety of fruits and nuts, some candy canes, chocolate coins, and a chocolate marshmallow Santa, but that was where the similarities ended.

In Clark's stocking was a wood carving of a man and small boy fishing in a small boat from his father, a pouch of homemade potpourri, and a coffee mug that Linda had sculpted herself and painted navy blue.

Linda's stocking contained a small wooden carving of a little girl with a small puppy and kitten, an apron that used fabric with chocolate chip cookies all over it, and a couple of clip-on TARDIS dangle earrings; the young girl beamed at her family. "Thanks, guys," she said.

Jimmy's stocking, there was a small, polished rosewood puzzle box a hand-knitted, light blue scarf with a dark blue bar down the center. "Uh," he said slowly, "wow…uh, thanks."

"You're welcome," Martha replied, smiling before reaching into her stocking and pulling out a small jewelry box. Inside lay a simple gold chain with a golden heart charm; a stylized 'M' was engraved on the front of the heart. Martha gasped softly and looked over at her husband with a touched expression. "Oh, honey, you remembered."

Jonathan smiled and got up from his chair, putting his stocking on the coffee table and walking over to his wife. He knelt beside the chair, took the necklace out of the box, and helped put it around his wife's neck before kissing her cheek and returning to his chair. He rummaged around in his stocking and pulled out a small red pocket knife. He smiled as he turned it over and read the inscription: 'To a wonderful whittler from his wonderful wife.' He smiled lovingly up at his wife. "Thank you, sweetheart," he said.

"Well, I knew your old one was getting dull," Martha replied. "You've had had that thing for over twenty years."

"Wow, that's older than we are," Linda whispered to Jimmy, who allowed himself a small snicker.

Jonathan and Martha continued looking through their stockings and pulled out small, fifty dollar gift certificates to from Clark, while Linda had taken two separate cross-sections of a tree trunk, polished them, and heat-carved different designs in the wood: an outline of the farm for Jonathan and a bowl of fruit for Martha.

"Looks like someone's getting more control over her heat vision," Jonathan remarked, impressed.

"Do you like them?" Linda asked hopefully.

Martha smiled warmly at her daughter. "Of course, sweetie," she said. "They're beautiful; thank you." Linda glanced between her parents and smiled gratefully.

"Well, now that stockings are done," Clark said, "it's time for the gifts." He glanced at Linda. "You wanna go first, Short Stack."

"Sure," Linda replied, trying not to look nervous as she put her stocking aside and got up; she walked over to the tree and pulled a small envelope hiding in the branches halfway up the tree; she turned to her parents, trying to appear calm. "I know this is going to be different than what you've probably gotten before, but…I wanted to do this, and I want you both to promise to keep—no matter what." She handed the envelope to Jonathan before returning to her spot on the couch.

Jonathan glanced at his wife briefly before opening the envelope and pulling out a small slip inside. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he realized what it was, then he slowly looked over at Linda in shock. "Linda, this is…."

"Jonathan, what is it?" Martha asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Jonathan motioned for her, and Martha got up and walked over; he handed the slip to her. Martha read it, her mouth slowly forming a small 'o,' her eyes widening; she looked up, shocked. "Linda, what on earth?"

"What is it?" Jimmy asked, curious.

"It's a check for one million dollars," Jonathan answered. He looked at his daughter. "Linda, how did you arrange this?" He glanced at Clark, who grinned at his father and simply shrugged. "Never mind."

"It was all Linda's idea," Clark said.

"You guys have done so much for me since I came to Earth," Linda said softly. "I just wanted to do something to help **you** out for a change."

Jonathan and Martha glanced at each other, smiling slightly and beckoned Linda to them. Linda looked nervous as she stood up and walked over to her adoptive parents; they didn't say anything as they got up and walked over to her parents. They didn't say anything as they got to their feet and enveloped her in a gentle hug.

"It's a wonderful gift, sweetie," Jonathan said softly. "Thank you."

Linda's glanced between her parents; she could see the tears in their eyes, but she simply smiled. "You're welcome."

Martha wiped the tear that fell down her cheek and kissed her daughter's forehead before composing herself. "Well, let's get to the rest of the presents," she said, still smiling. Linda and Martha went back to their spots while Jonathan rummaged under the tree.

"Okay," Jonathan said after pulling out a small flat package, "this is from Clark to Martha." He handed it to Martha, who carefully opened it; inside was a folded handmade quilt made with patches of bright colors and intricately-designed embroidery. "Oh, Clark, it's beautiful!"

"I saw it on Ebay," Clark replied, "and I knew you'd like it."

"I love it," Martha replied, smiling; she got up, walked over to Clark, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, honey."

"Okay," Jonathan said after a few moments, reaching for another package and reading the label. "This one is for Clark, from your mother and me."

Clark took the gift, unwrapped it, and saw a dark cherry glasses case inside. It was made of wood and hand-carved, with the initials 'CJK' embossed on the top; he opened it and laughed. The lining was made from a piece of an old flannel shirt of his. "Aw, thanks, guys."

Jonathan grinned and reached for another package. "Okay, this is for Linda from Dad, Mom, and Clark."

Linda grinned and took the package, tearing the wrapping paper. The package turned out to be a large piece of wood with the words 'Artia Magistra' carved into it; she tilted her head, intrigued. "Wow, this is nice. What does it mean?"

"It's Latin," Jimmy answered, "for 'Mistress of Art.'"

"Well, this is definitely going in my gallery," Linda replied, smiling. "Thank you, guys."

The Kents grinned, and Jonathan went back to handing out gifts; he grabbed one addressed to him from Clark and carefully wrapped it, revealing a small box. The farmer opened it and saw a bunch of game tickets inside; a closer inspection saw they were season tickets to the Sharks for the following year—two for every game.

"I figure it would give us time to spend together," Clark replied, smiling.

Jonathan smiled back at his son. "Thank you, Clark." Clark grinned as Jonathan reached for another gift. "This is from Jimmy to Linda." He handed the gift to Linda, who quickly unwrapped it and gasped softly; inside was a canvas replica of Van Gough's 'Sunflowers' oil painting.

"I saw it in Metropolis," Jimmy replied before shrugging, "and I knew you'd like it."

"Jimmy, this is beautiful," Linda replied, looking at him, touched.

Jimmy smiled. "When you paint me Daleks in the style of an Andy Warhol painting," he replied, "I figured I could at least get you a painting from your favorite artist."

Linda smiled. "Thank you," she replied sincerely.

"Okay, this is for Jimmy," Jonathan said after a few moments, handing a small package to Jimmy, "from Clark."

Jimmy took the package and carefully unwrapped and opened it. Nestled inside a small box was a high-tech silver wristwatch; everyone looked over at Clark.

"It's from S.T.A.R. Labs in Metropolis," Clark replied. "It's a prototype of a hypersonic wristwatch they've been working on for over a year; they designed it to be a way to contact Superman."

"So, only Superman—and eventually me—and animals can hear?" Linda asked.

"Essentially," Clark replied. "I—well, Superman—talked with Professor Hamilton and convinced him to let Jimmy have it."

"So, it's a Kryptonian dog whistle," Jimmy replied, smirking. He pulled out the watch and looked at the front; it appeared to be normal, except for a few buttons on the sides of the face; he reached out and pressed one of the buttons. "What's this one do?" Clark suddenly shouted in pain as he grabbed the sides of his head, doubling over, eyes clenched; Krypto and Streaky yowled in pain and scrambled out of the living room. Jonathan and Martha hurried over as Jimmy, looking horrified, quickly pressed the button again. Clark slowly opened his eyes and removed his hands from his head.

"Son, are you okay?" Jonathan asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I think so," Clark replied softly as he glanced at Jimmy, who looked absolutely mortified. "I think we need to adjust the volume on that thing."

"Sorry," Jimmy replied as he quickly put the watch down on the coffee table. "I didn't mean…I'm sorry."

"It's my fault," Clark reassured his friend, smiling a little. "I forgot to adjust the settings," he shrugged, "but, hey, at least we know it works."

Jimmy looked a little sheepish, and he glanced over at Linda; she appeared amused. "What?" he asked.

"I think this is one time I'm glad I **don't** have super-hearing," Linda replied.

"Yeah, enjoy it while you can, Short Stack," Clark said, smiling more as Martha and Jonathan—satisfied that their son was okay—headed back to their spots and finished the rest of the presents.

As he watched the activity, Jimmy felt something wrap around his hand and glanced down to see Linda's fingers intertwined with his; he looked up at her, and she looked over at him, smiling, before she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Jimmy," she whispered softly.

"Merry Christmas, Linda," Jimmy replied just as quietly.

The End


End file.
